Requiem of Insanity
by cjmuehlb
Summary: Abused and lonely Edward meets shy and mysterious Bella when they are seven. Secrets and tragedy invade their lives, but still their love endures. Can these two tortured souls find happiness in a mad world of vampires and werewolves. WARNING: Major Angst
1. Prologue

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Summary** - Abandon by his parents, seven year old Edward is physically abused and neglected in his foster home and his only close friend, Bella, lives in Arizona for ten months out of the year. It is only when the Cullens unexpectedly enter his life that he learns what it means to be loved and his wounded soul starts to heal._

_When tragedy brings Bella to Forks for good she comes hiding a secret too big to share, even with him. Can these two tortured souls find happiness in a mad world of vampires and werewolves or are they already doomed by their own past?_

_All canon couples_

_Chapters of Edward as a child will be told in the third person. All others will be told from Edward's POV. I may include additional POVs if the story warrants. _

_This is Edward's story._

**_WARNING: Strong language, drug and alcohol abuse, thoughts of suicide and suicide attempts, mental illness and child abuse. Future lemons._**

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**_Prologue - Edward's POV_**

None of us wore watches and no one had a cell phone but even with the clouds blocking it most of the time, we could see that the sun was starting to set. It was getting late. If we wanted to make it back before Billy's fish fry we had to hurry. Billy didn't appreciate it when we straggled in after all the work was done and I was pretty sure that Jacob had volunteered us to handle the deep fryer, so there would be no acceptable excuse for being the last to arrive.

I glanced over at him now as we prepared to leap from the lower cliff shelf in unison. Feeling my gaze he threw me a look that indicated he knew we were pushing it and would need to hurry.

Just then Quil and Embry emerged from the trees. They had gotten into an impromptu wrestling match half way up the trail and we'd abandon them to their infantile behavior, neither of us too concerned that it would escalate into anything more.

"Well you finally made it," Jacob yelled over the roar from the water crashing against the sheer rock wall. "If you want to ride with me, we need to get going."

"Come on, let's jump from the top. There ain't no challenge here," Quil whined. His repetitive pleading all afternoon was getting old. If he wanted to jump from the top he didn't need us to escort him up there.

"Go for it dude," Embry replied, finding the conversation as tiresome as I did. "I'll come with you and give you a little shove when you weenie out."

"We'll see you at the bottom losers," I shouted as they continued on the path that would take them up to the top. I doubted they would jump, but I wouldn't voice my skepticism now. No, I'd save the ribbing for later at Billy's house when we had an audience.

To my surprise, when I turned to look at Jake one more time before we made our jump, I saw that he'd stepped back from the cliff and was staring after them.

"Oh man, tell me you aren't thinking what I think you're thinking?" I scoffed.

"It will be a great story to tell everyone tonight." Jake smiled slyly. "Besides you don't think Quil will actually take the plunge, do you?"

"No, I was counting on him not jumping. It will save us a trip to the emergency room." I sighed. Once Jake got it in his head to do something there was no changing his mind and he wouldn't chicken out.

"Ahh come on, Masen. Have a little faith."

"Sure…sure, lead the way."

There wasn't much I wouldn't do for Jake if he asked and he knew it which put me in the unenviable position of being the bitch in our relationship; but I couldn't complain too much and Jake seldom took advantage of it. It wasn't that I was a complete candy ass, incapable of standing up for myself, but there was too much history between us and the rest of the Quileute boys and without them and their endless, often merciless harassment, I think I would have gone insane or worse.

The distraction of my friends on the reservation was usually enough to make me forget, at least for a little while, but the pain was always there, just below the surface. There was no anger, that emotion had left me a long time ago. There was no point in being angry at something that was inevitably meant to happen. I should have known; I should have seen it coming, but I'd blindly accepted my amazing good fortune forgetting that it never lasted, I would never be allowed true long-lasting happiness, it wasn't in the cards for me and deluding myself into believing otherwise was no one's fault but my own. Still it was hard to ignore the giant hole in my heart and life with the absence of Bella and the Cullens.

Not that Bella was out of my life, but her own dark demon had driven a wedge between us, one that neither she nor I could overcome and even with Charlie's support I found her slipping away from me. When the Cullens disappeared, I lost everything that anchored me; I had no support, no guidance, no family and I had to deal with all that shit plus manage Bella and her issues on my own.

It was only when I returned to the place of my youth, the reservation, a pale face among this tiny tribe of very private, very superstitious people, that I felt some life return, the cold indifference dissipating with each passing day. Surrounded by my buds almost made it possible to believe someone cared about me again.

Carlisle had been smart about one thing. Whether it was through a guilty conscious or a sense of responsibility that he wasn't obligated to have, he made sure I had a home and the Clearwaters were as good as any, especially after Harry died. I was Sue's distraction from her own grief while she tried to help me deal with mine. It could be that we saved each other that way, even if we were only deluding ourselves into believing that things could only get better from that point on.

So here I was, living a life that for all intents and purposes wasn't mine to live, being part of a people that I didn't belong too, having friends that I'd largely abandon for the past ten years and finding a little bit of hope somewhere in the midst of it all.

When we reached the top, I found my perch on a flat stone that hung out over the cliff ledge; a familiar spot for me. I often came up on this cliff to contemplate my life and give Sue and her kids some private family time especially during holidays or other important milestones that didn't need the interference of an outsider. Only the older Quileute boys ever ventured up here so I was usually left alone to wallow in a pity party over what had become of my life and I wasn't even eighteen yet.

Quil stood on the edge, looking down at the crashing waves below us, the tide was going out; treacherous looking rocks were dotting the shoreline. It was getting a little too late to make this jump and he appeared pale under his bronze skin.

"What are you waiting for Quil, hurry up. I can almost taste those fish and you know Billy won't let us eat if we don't help," Embry prompted.

That wasn't entirely true. Billy would let us eat but we'd also be regulated to clean up detail and after a night of eating and drinking by several dozen people, it could take up several hours of our Saturday, especially if he thought clean up should also include getting the chainsaw out and cutting wood from the trees that had fallen around the house after a recent storm. It was never a good idea to piss Billy off; his payback always involved being productive.

"Hot damn that's a long way down," Quil squeaked, causing Embry to break out in a fit of nervous giggles.

"I'll go if you go, "Embry said when he'd gotten himself under control. He knew Quil wasn't going to go anywhere so it was easy to appear confident, even cocky.

Jacob had taken a position on the outer cliff ledge that jutted out away from the rock wall. It was the perfect place to launch oneself into the angry waters below. He looked down, then over at me, then down again.

"You don't have to jump Jacob. We can come back next week. It will be a lot warmer and the beach will be full of witnesses to your idiocy," I offered.

I tried not to interfere too much with his reckless behavior. Mothering him around was not a role I relished or one he appreciated. Yes I had interfered with his risky adventures in the past, even threatening to _accidently_ mention it to Billy when he got the bright idea that we should swim off the point of First Beach to a little outcropping of rocks on a particularly calm day, pointing out that the rocks were a good mile from shore and with the rip current and potential for a shift of the winds, it would be risky and for what?

But if he'd gone, I would have followed; I owned him my loyalty, even if it meant putting myself in perilous situations that he appeared to thrive under, his face glowing with satisfaction after each successful adventure was complete. If I didn't know any better I would say that Jake had started a bucket list and was relentlessly checking off all the things he wanted to accomplish in his life dragging me along for the ride. Not that I was a complete coward, but where Jake usually came away from these misbegotten adventures unscathed, I almost always found a way to get caught or injured depending on what the latest escapade entailed. Good thing I was friends with the police chief and too bad that I was no longer the unofficial adopted son of the local doctor. For a while there, I had all my bases covered.

_Loyalty. _

It's how I thought of my relationship with Jake. Not that we weren't friends, good friends, even best friends at least in my case, but I doubted I would be here on this cliff contemplating making a dangerous jump with him if it were anyone else but Jake.

_It had been six months._

Six months…six months since the Cullens left me. It felt like yesterday or like it never happened. The odd sensation of having lived a life that didn't feel like my life, like I had watched it unfold through someone else's eyes was always with me. Every detail of it fresh, yet dreamlike, the recollections of a life that I was never really meant to have. I closed my eyes as the sun broke from the clouds relishing it's warmth against my face.

_The Cullens. _

I could not think about them because if I did, I knew the inevitable uncontrollable reaction would occur and I wasn't too keen on wiping tears from my eyes in front of my boys. Everything I experienced in my life up to that point should have prepared me for it or at least made me immune to the anguish they would eventually cause me. I was little more than an abandoned pet to them, a stray dog that they fed and took care of because I hung around the house, but not something they felt obligated to take with them when they left.

The wall I built was there, it couldn't protect me against the pain of the beatings and the ache of an empty belly, but it should have prepared me for the agony of their betrayal, the shock of their abandonment when I needed them most, the hurt that I was alone, would always be alone and had no one that I could count on. But I learned, I always learned and filed it away as a mistake not to be repeated. Their disappearance was that final blow that brought me to my knees and I had no intention of standing up only to be knocked down again. Because it would happen. It always happened.

No, as much as I loved my boys…my buds…my posse, I would never trust them so much as to count on them when I needed them most. We were friends, nothing more and friends could easily be replaced with other friends so I never let myself be too drawn into security of having someone I could count on to cover my back.

I flexed the fingers of my right hand. The pain was still there; the result of my fist meeting Carlisle's face. Not a good idea in hindsight, but the pain was welcomed. It was the only thing I had left of them, the only thing that proved they really existed.

_Bella. _

The wind seemed to whistle out her name, taunting me and if I'd been alone, I would have replied out loud to the call of it. Bella was different. Bella hadn't abandon me, hadn't betrayed me, hadn't refused to do the one thing I begged her to do. Bella loved me and it was only the demon that kept us from being together for all time. Bella could be trusted, but Bella wasn't in control.

"Earth to Eddie, where are you at Bro?" Embry's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Right here, waiting for you chicken shits to come to what was a foregone conclusion, before we ever came up here. You aren't going to jump." I countered, finding the voice I used for my buds; my _go with the flow_ voice.

I looked over at Jake and felt warmth creep across my face. He knew I was full of shit; he knew me almost better than anyone, so that wasn't too surprising. The good thing about Jake was he usually didn't harass me about it, at least not in front of the others.

"I didn't walk my ass all the way up here for nothing," he said with a wink in my direction. "You infants can start walking because as soon as I'm down on the beach, I'm heading home. Maybe you can hitch a ride with Paul and Jared. I think I see them down on the beach hitting on the Forks' girls again.

_The Forks' girls. _

Bella would have been with them in another life. She was a Forks' girl. I certainly wouldn't be up here on the top of this cliff if she had been which was just another reason why I didn't quite fit in, didn't quite belong. My priorities were all wrong. I was a user, occupying my time with my friends when I'd rather be somewhere else, with her, with the Cullens; yeah my boys were right down there at number three.

I scanned the beach and sure enough, there was Paul and Jared with a couple of blond girls that were not from the reservation.

"Let's make some noise to get their attention," Quil suggested. "We want them to witness you're jump, Jake."

"Why, so they can see how the rest of you wimped out?" Jake responded. He had a point.

"Ahhh, that's not fair. I'll jump, but I think we waited too long," Embry said.

I glanced over the ledge and nodded. It did look dangerous. More rocks, more waves, the wind was picking up. "Yeah maybe you should wait, Jake, conditions aren't really ideal."

He rolled his eyes, but I could see the concern in them. He looked over the edge. I didn't actually hear him gulp but I saw his Adam's apple bob several times. He needed a way out and to save face and I would give him that.

'We're almost dry, let's just go back and get the fire going for Billy. If we get wet, I'll have to go home and change and then Leah will want to come back with me. We could do without her tonight," I said. Seth would probably want to come too, but him we could tolerate. Sam and Leah together could get ugly and Sam would most likely be at Billy's with Emily.

"Yeah come on Jake, let's go." Quil was trying to save face but tonight promised to be long and painful for him. We would not let his cowardice go without an extreme amount of ribbing.

"Hey is Bella coming tonight?" Embry asked me abruptly.

I winced. It was an involuntary reaction whenever anyone mentioned her name. "Not sure, I haven't heard if she's home." I wasn't being evasive. Bella no longer had a cell phone. I hadn't spoken to her in a month and Charlie never made any promises.

Before he could reply we heard hollering from the beach. "Hey kiddies, get down from there, you might get hurt."

The voice was hard to make out over the loud roar of the ocean swells crashing into the beach, but it was undoubtedly Paul. His obnoxious behavior never took a vacation, even when he was hitting on the local girls.

I saw the look on Jacob's face. I knew that look. He wouldn't back out now. The challenge was made and he would answer it. It would be my fault if something happened. Any animosity between Jake and Paul was directly related to me. No one would tell me exactly what happened but it wasn't hard to deduce that they had a physical altercation when they both showed up with cuts and bruises on their face and scrapes on their hands. Never mind that the noticeable physical signs of a fight disappeared the next day. Jake explained it away by saying Quileutes healed rapidly. _Whatever._

Paul hated me. Whenever he was around I could feel his gaze burning a hole in my flesh and he made no move to mask his loathing for me. Regardless of who was around, he would stare at me with unabridged hostility ignoring the chiding looks from the elders in the tribe and even taunting me in front of Jake, Quil and Embry, daring them to do something about it. His contempt for my presence here on the reservation aside, there was something else about me and my relationship with the Cullens specifically that enraged him. When once he tried to spit out the reasons for his venomous feelings towards me, he was quickly hushed by his friends who herded him off before he revealed some secret that everyone seemed to know but me. I was at a loss for how to respond to him and not wanting to cause Sue any additional grief I chose to ignore him even if it made me come across as a complete chicken shit.

"Come on, let's go. We'll jump from the lower shelf," Embry said, but he didn't see that the decision had already been made. "Billy will be pissed if we're late."

"All the more reason to jump. It's the quickest way down," Jake responded.

Embry looked at him skeptically. Quil was already half way down the path, stopping only when he heard the determination in Jake's voice.

I stood up and joined Jake on the ledge. We both peered over the side taking stock of the anticipated landing spot in the swirling black waters below us.

"I dunno man; I think we waited too long. Embry's right, we can always jump tomorrow," I said hopefully.

"Ahhh shiiit, I gotta jump." He gave me goofy grin, nodding his head towards the group on the beach. "Pretty stupid huh?"

"Yeah stupid. Who cares what those nimrods think?"

But we both knew the answer to that. Jake cared. Life hadn't been easy for him as my friend. He had a score to settle, a reputation to uphold, an ax to grind. And I cared because it would just give them one more reason to give me shit. I was not a fighter like Jake, not even that good at wrestling for fun. My history preordained me to be the victim and it was a role I flourished in.

Before I could verbalize my concerns that the tide was too low, the water too rough, Jake bolted, throwing his body off the cliff, a ferocious howl echoing against the cliff walls, cut short as he hit the water. Embry and Quil were at my side in an instant and all three of us leaned over searching the waters for any sign of him.

In the distance we could hear the hoots and hollers from the beach. At least_ they_ witnessed his jump. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw his head emerge from the water; he was floundering in the angry waves but making steady progress towards shore. He did it! He finally jumped from the highest point on the reservation and I felt pride in his accomplishment.

"You jumping, Eddie?" Embry said in an excited voice.

I hadn't really planned on it, but I could understand why Embry thought I might. Where Jake went, I went. It was my way of blending in, being one of the boyz, appearing normal when I usually felt anything but. And Jake wasn't a bad person to mimic. Other than Paul and to a lesser extent Jared, he had no real enemies on the reservation. In fact even given his youth, he was respected by the elders and younger generation alike. I shuddered to think what my fate would have been if I hadn't been accepted back into the fold by him and the others after the Cullens abandon me.

The last thought made my heart seize. I could almost hear Emmett's good natured razzing just before Rosalie thunked him over the head, chastising me for even considering something so reckless. In the distance, I saw Jake stagger from the water towards Paul and Jared who greeted him with unexpected enthusiasm, thumping him on the back excitedly. It was then that he turned to acknowledge us, waving his hand in a more visible version of thumbs up. In retrospect, I don't think he was encouraging any of us follow him. He had done what he set out to do, jump from the top with his biggest nemesis looking on. He wouldn't need a validation that he was incredibly stupid for attempting the risky jump so late in the day but I couldn't fathom turning around and walking down the cliff with Quil and Embry. The ridicule from the idiots with him would be unrelenting and unlike Quil and Embry, I wasn't truly part of the tribe. It would be just another reason to give me shit. So without saying a word to my boys, I followed Jacob's footsteps and sprinted towards the edge.

In the end, I didn't get it quite right which shouldn't have surprised me. Despite all my good intentions, I usually managed to fuck something up. If there was a harder road to follow, I would inevitably take it. It was as if I was fated to face challenge after challenge but never rewarded for overcoming the obstacles thrown in my path. As if there was some master force in the universe destined to make my life a living hell. But even being so presumptuous as to believe I warranted the special attention of God or some other higher being that would favor me with bad luck for all-time, I wasn't predisposed to changing my lot in life, wasn't inclined to save myself from myself. I'd come to assume the worst and it was never unexpected when bad karma would pay me a visit.

Propelling myself from the cliff as Jake had done, my foot hit a rock or root or a depression in the ground and I stumbled forward finding myself in the unenviable position of being unable to stop my momentum towards the cliff ledge, yet losing the forward propulsion that would launch me away from the sheer cliff wall. When I stepped into thin air I was leaning forward and somersaulted into open space, black water…gray sky…black water…gray sky…black water…gray sky. The fall itself was not overly terrifying. I heard a steady stream of cuss words from somewhere above me but even they were not particularly alarming. I was not going to land on my feet and it would hurt like hell.

But it didn't hurt. I didn't feel a thing; just a weightlessness that was accompanied by complete silence except for the muted rumbling of the bombardment of waves crashing into rocks. I knew I entered the water head first and I briefly considered how inaccurate it was to say that hitting water was like hitting concrete. I was pretty sure that if I hit concrete head first I would be dead; but I wasn't dead, I was floating.

At some point, whether through a physical sensation of being unable to breathe or a conscious thought that I was underwater, I realized I was drowning. I didn't feel the burn in my lungs from lack of oxygen or the panicky feeling of being smothered or even the terror of knowing that I was about to die, just an odd melancholy and a recognition that I no longer needed to worry about anything anymore.

My past…my future, it didn't matter and I wasn't afraid because I wasn't alone. I saw Bella's face looking concerned but oddly tranquil and over her shoulder was Carlisle, his expression serious and for lack of a better word, parental. A very sad Esme was silently shaking her head, her caramel hair billowing out around her in the water and the others their faces stone-like but their strange gold eyes showing compassion and an empathy for my situation.

And then I was floating, drifting in the darkness, bright colors of light exploding all around me; my vision diluted, like I was looking through a prism, nothing completely in focus. There was no pain; it was peaceful, just a feeling of being held in the tender arms of a motherly embrace; an embrace that I'd never truly experienced before. My own mother had never embraced me and even having known the security of having Esme's arms around me, they were hard, the grip rigid and no matter how she tried to convey it through shear will, it was never a warm embrace. This was something completely different, unfamiliar and even disconcerting; it just felt wrong and so I struggled against it.

Then I saw other faces, the unwelcome faces of Paul and Jared, their expressions comical in their confusion and there was Jacob, hovering over me, his lips were moving, he was talking to me but try as I might, I couldn't hear a word he was saying. When I tried to look beyond them I saw only blackness; the others were gone and I couldn't follow them, I couldn't move.

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_**Author Notes:**_

_**I've never embraced Jacob and the Quileutes, however there is a very good reason that I've included them in Edward's circle of friends and it will be revealed in later chapters.**_

_**Unlike my past stories, I am going to try to keep these chapters shorter so I can manage them better. Ten thousand word behemoth chapters become little mini stories all on their own and it is time consuming to edit and revise them.**_

_**Feedback would be appreciated, especially since I feel I'm floundering a little with this human Edward.**_

_**Thanks for reading.**_


	2. Weird Little Kid

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: Contains accounts of physical and verbal abuse against a child. Please read with caution.**_

_**PART ONE**_

_**Chapter One – Weird Little Kid**_

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_Ten years earlier…_

His name was Edward Anthony Masen and he was seven years old. He lived in a dilapidated little house with his foster dad, George and foster mom, Karen and his three foster brothers Mike, Tyler and Eric. He didn't much care for his foster brothers. They were all bigger than he was and they would gang up on him when he wasn't _paying attention_ and hit him.

A long time ago, he would tattle to George, but George didn't want to hear about it and George might hit him if he interrupted football or baseball or hockey on TV; so he stopped going to George when his foster brothers hurt him and started going to Karen. Karen was better than George. Karen didn't hit, well not usually, but Karen would yell at him, call him a _stupid little brat_. The only good thing about telling Karen was that she would also yell at his foster brothers and tell them to leave the _weird little kid_ alone because she was tired of listening to his _shit_.

Sometimes they would listen to Karen but usually they waited until Karen wasn't around and then they would hold him down and take turns punching him. He learned a long time ago that crying didn't do much good. In fact, crying made them laugh and hit him harder so he tried not to cry no matter how hard they hit him; even when they hit him _down there _and it hurt so bad that he saw black spots in his eyes.

He didn't miss his mom and dad except at night when he was lying on his mattress in the basement. He was lonely and scared and he didn't like the dark. The windows in the basement were small so even in the day time it was dark but at night there were no lights so he had to be in the basement without lights by himself. They told him it was because he made too much noise at night, but he couldn't help it. He had bad dreams and they made him cry, but that would wake up his foster brothers and sometimes George and Karen and that made them _mad _so he had to stay in the basement without lights by himself.

So then he would think of his mom and dad. He couldn't remember them that well. He just knew his dad was tall and thin and had a skinny beard and his mom had green eyes like him. Sometimes he thought about eating ice cream with his mom at the kitchen table. He remembered that she would take a big spoon full and put the whole thing in her mouth. When he tried to do the same thing she would laugh at him, because he would have more ice cream on his face then in his mouth and it was a good laugh, not like when Karen laughed at him when Mike tripped him. But mostly he just remembered that they sat on the couch and smoked stinky stuff that smelled like sugary house cleaner and burned his nose and they didn't talk to him much or remember to buy food except for the ice cream.

The best thing about living with George and Karen was that they lived on an Indian _reservation_. George was _part_ Indian and _part_ something else. Edward didn't know what it meant to be part one thing and part something else and he didn't want to ask because that might make George mad and it really didn't matter. Being _part _Indian meant that George got to live on the _reservation _and that meant that he had a lot of real Indians to play with and as far as he could tell, other than his three foster brothers, he was the only one that wasn't Indian. He didn't count Karen. Karen wasn't Indian, but she didn't go out and play with the Indian boys either, so it didn't matter. The Indians that he played with weren't like the Indians in the movies that rode horses and shot bow and arrows but Jacob said no one did that any more, not even the Indians he saw on TV. They were called _Quill...yoots_ which he had a hard time saying so he just called them Indians and no seemed to mind.

The only time Karen went outside was to have a_ special_ cigarette. Sometimes she would walk him to his school bus and smoke one and then they would have a _talk_. She would tell him why he was a _weird little kid_ and that he was lucky to have them and that he should learn to _appreciate _her and George instead of acting like an _ungrateful little shit_. But usually she stayed in the house with George and no one paid any attention to him and he only went home when the Indian boys were called in for the night.

He tried to stay away from the house and that wasn't hard during the school year, but now it was summer and he couldn't be outside playing all the time because the other boys he played with had chores to do and had to spend family time at home and only got to play with him when they were good. He didn't really understand that. He was never good and he got to play all the time but it wasn't much fun to play by himself.

When he had no one to play with outside, he hid in the basement. During the day there was enough light that came in through the windows so he could read if he held the book a certain way. Not that it mattered. He only had one book, _Harold and the Purple Crayon_ and knew all the words by heart, but he still liked to look at the words and the pictures at the same time. Besides his book, he had nine green army men in various poses. He couldn't remember where he got them from and some of them had chew marks on them from a dog, so those were the injured ones. He would set them up around his mattress to protect him from the enemy in the dark parts of the basement. His only other toy was a baseball. He snitched it from the Indian boys after they forgot it in the grass one day and no one every asked for it back. Over and over he would roll the ball in his hands, lying on his back, tossing it up in the air and catching it. A baseball wasn't much good without anyone to toss it to, but he treasured it all the same.

They didn't eat at a kitchen table like most regular families did. They didn't even have a kitchen table other than a card table with a bent leg that made it lean to one side. Edward wasn't even always sure that they would be eating anything until he smelled something cooking. Then he might hear the boys fighting over the food left over after George and Karen took what they wanted and went to sit in front of the TV, but he waited a long time after he smelled and heard anything before sneaking up stairs and taking whatever was left. It wasn't a good idea to get caught in the kitchen by his foster brothers so he would run in and out as fast as he could. They usually ate off of paper plates because there wasn't enough clean dishes to use so the first thing he did when he came into the kitchen was grab a plate from the cupboard and a spoon from the drawer. He always grabbed a spoon; he could eat anything with a spoon and he didn't want to take the chance of grabbing a fork only to find out he could eat it better with a spoon.

They usually had something with noodles, maybe macaroni and cheese or hamburger helper without the hamburger. Sometimes there would be food in the bottom of the pan and sometimes there wouldn't be. If there wasn't, he would take the whole pan and leave the paper plate behind. In the basement he'd use his fingers and the spoon and clean the pan up as best he could but he was always hungry afterward. He had better luck in the mornings. Dry cereal was almost always in the cupboard and though they usually didn't have milk, he could get one or two full bowls before Mike would track him down and hit him.

He didn't like his foster brothers, but he didn't blame them for hitting him. He was weird. He knew he was weird. Even the _Quill…yoot_ boys told him he was weird and they were usually nice to him. Mike said that even the way Edward looked at him would _piss him off _so he tried not to look at him at all. But sometimes he couldn't help it and then Mike would roll up his fist and punch him right in the face. If he didn't cry, Mike might let him go, but if any tears came to his eyes, even a little, Mike would drag him into another room or throw him down the stairs into the basement and jump on him, punching him until he couldn't breathe anymore and sometimes not stopping until he quit moving completely.

Tyler and Eric were younger than Mike and usually only beat him up when Mike was around to watch, but sometimes they would gang up on him and hold his head under water in the toilet, usually before they peed in it, but sometimes not. This was worse than just getting hit by Mike and Edward would get so mad he would cry which would make them laugh and _encouraged_ them to keep doing what they were doing.

When he didn't get much to eat for a few days or when they ran out of food at the end of the month, he would stay outside almost all the time and when it got dark he would look through the garbage cans around the _reservation_ for something to eat. He felt bad about doing it, but he didn't really understand why. He didn't think it was stealing, because it was in the garbage which meant they didn't want it anymore, but he still felt bad about it and never told anyone that he did it. But he usually found good stuff to eat; half eaten hamburgers, pizza, apples that only had one bite out of them and even desserts like cake with only the frosting eaten off. Sometimes he would find so much food he would get a little bag and take it home with him and keep it in the basement in the dark and eat on it for days.

One night, it was a warm night, after playing baseball with Jacob and Embry almost all day, Edward came home and found George waiting for him in the kitchen with a belt in his hand. George didn't usually hit any of them because if social services ever found out he would be in _big trouble_, but sometimes he would get mad and smack one of them without thinking about it and then they had to wait to see if the bruise or the swelling would go down before the next visit by the social worker. But Edward could see that George wasn't too worried about that now and unlike the other boys in the house, Edward didn't have any family so he never left for a _supervised visit _with anyone that would care, so they usually didn't see the _suspicious marks_ on him.

"There's been talk around here that you boys ain't being taken care of too well," George said calmly as he slapped the belt against his thigh.

Edward didn't say anything; he knew better. He just needed to wait for his chance, then run, but right now George was blocking the door to the basement.

"You been talkin' to anyone about that?"

Edward shook his head no.

"What kind of stupid fucker do you think I am? You're the only one that runs wild with the kids around here and you're always yapping that big mouth of yours."

"It wasn't me," Edward said but he knew it didn't do any good to argue.

Well I think it was you, you stupid fuck…little weirdo always running around shooting your mouth off acting like some little smarty pants. You and those stupid kids you play with. That Black kid, he's the worst of the lot of ya. Damn Billy Black, I'd like to crush that bastard's skull." George was staring past him talking like he wasn't there. He got like that from time to time. Karen said it was because he had a _damaged _brain.

Edward didn't say anything hoping that George would forget he was there, but even with a damaged brain, he never seemed to forget that.

"What are you staring at, you green eyed fuck," George snarled.

"I'm not…I'm not…staring," Edward didn't know what staring had to do with it anyway.

"You're creepy, you know that kid. You got creepy weird eyes. No wonder no one wants you. Damn County doesn't pay us enough to keep you." He had that look again.

Edward decided he didn't need to go to the basement tonight. It was dark out now, getting late; they had played much too late. He should have been home and in the basement before George had so much to drink, but now he either had to face the belt or he had to sleep outside tonight and outside was starting to look like a pretty good idea.

"Where you going kid? Get your ass back here; I'm not through with you." George stumbled after him when he started backing up.

But by then Edward was already out the door and running into the dark. A quick look over his shoulder confirmed that George wasn't chasing him, but he cringed when he heard him yell.

"Yeah run boy, you have to come back some time and I'll kick your ass when you do."

He knew the neighbors might hear and he was embarrassed by it more than anything else. More than his hand me down clothes, dirty hands and face, run down house or the fact that he lived in a foster home. He'd take all of those things but he didn't like it when George or Karen yelled at them so others could hear, it made him feel bad.

* * *

Edward didn't usually go in the woods at night. It was easy to get lost and he knew if they had to come and look for him, he'd be in _big trouble_. Besides, the woods were scary, sometimes even scarier than the basement. True there was no George in the woods, no Karen and no foster brothers and nothing in the woods had every hurt him, but he knew that monsters lived in the woods and a monster could hurt him worse than he'd ever been hurt by any of them.

The woods were also wet and he really didn't like getting wet because then he would have to sit in wet clothes until they dried off. He didn't have very many clothes to begin with so he couldn't go around and get his clothes all wet just because he wanted to play in the woods. He decided he would walk along the path by the river so he wouldn't get lost and he shouldn't get too wet. Billy Black, Jacob's dad, was in a wheel chair because he had _diabetes _so he needed a good clear path to get down to the river. He fished a lot and he said someday he would take Edward with him, but so far he never had.

Now he ran down the wide path until he couldn't see any of the lights from any of the houses on the _reservation_ any more. He was a little nervous, because there were weird sounds in the dark that he never heard in the daytime but he decided not to be a _baby_ and if he just stayed on the path and didn't leave the river he wouldn't get lost.

Eventually he got tired of walking and sat in the grass with his back leaning up against a tree. He knew he had to wait to go back home until George was in bed which wouldn't be that long, but it was hard to know for sure because he didn't have any way to tell the time. He was _excellent_ at telling time, but he didn't have a clock or a watch with him so it didn't matter. Pulling out three green army men, he thought he might play for a while but it was so dark he could barely see them even when he held them right up to his face. The army men all had guns, so he felt a little safer in the woods all alone. He was glad he brought the ones with weapons even though he didn't like to carry them in his pocket. The pointy things hurt when he sat down.

He wasn't sure how long he sat trying to play in the dark with his three man army, when he saw _them_. At first he thought maybe he'd fallen asleep and was having a dream because they looked like something a kid might see in a dream, a good dream, but after thinking about it for a while, he didn't think they would have that funny expression on their face, like they were surprised to see him if they were part of his dream.

There were two of them and they were the most beautiful women he had ever seen. They were like princesses from a story book and though neither one had crowns, he didn't think women so pretty could be anything but princesses. One had brown hair and one had blond hair and they glowed like a moon beam in the pitch black night. He was a little scared even though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't usual to see two princesses in the woods in the middle of the night by the _reservation _glowing like they were their own glow sticks, but they weren't monsters which is what he expected to see.

They were coming towards him and at first that didn't scare him, but then he saw that they floated towards him, like ghosts so then he thought that they might be ghosts and not princesses and this filled him with _panic. _But he was more curious then afraid so he only watched as they came closer and closer and he could clearly see that they weren't ghosts, they were real and solid people and they just moved different than anyone he had ever seen but he was pretty sure he'd never seen a real princess so maybe that's how they all moved.

They were whispering to each other, soft little whispers that he didn't understand, but he liked the way their whispers sounded, gentle and soothing, not like Karen when she talked or the teacher at school that didn't like him too much or Quil's mom who was nice, but didn't have a very soft voice.

When they were standing almost right in front of him, they stopped and the dark haired one knelt down so she was looking him right in the eye. She was more beautiful up close, maybe the prettiest person he'd ever seen and she was smiling at him in a way that made him feel good, a way he hadn't felt in a long time, maybe ever. She didn't look like a ghost now, even if her skin was the whitest he'd ever seen. She looked perfect to him, even more perfect then a princess should be, so then he began to wonder if she was an angel. He knew more about princesses then he did about angels, but he knew angels were beautiful too, maybe the most beautiful of all.

"Hi there, young man. What are you doing out here all by yourself?" The angel in front of him spoke in a voice that sounded like a song.

"I'm…I'm playing," he said holding up two of his army men. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to tell her he was hiding from George either.

"You're playing!" She exclaimed, but her voice didn't change in pitch or volume. "Isn't it a little late to be playing? Shouldn't you be home in bed dreaming, getting a good night's sleep so you can be ready to play all day tomorrow?"

He shrugged. That made sense unless said boy had George standing in the kitchen ready to whip him with a belt.

"And what's your name, sweetheart," she asked him softly, her fingers reaching out like she was going to touch him but then she stopped.

He supposed she must have seen that he was dirty and didn't want to get it on her hands which made him feel bad. He would have washed his face in the river if he'd known he was going to see princesses in the woods, but he thought all he had to worry about was monsters and he was pretty sure that they wouldn't care if he was dirty or not.

"Edward Anthony Masen and I'm seven years old," he replied thinking the next question would be how old he was, so he would just take care of that question right off the bat.

"My, what a fine name that is Edward Anthony Masen," the princess said in a delighted voice.

He smiled a little at that. Most people thought his name was stupid. _Old fashion _they said, but he didn't really know what old fashion meant except that it wasn't a good thing.

"What's your name," he said slowly, wondering too late if it was alright to ask. He didn't know if princesses or angels for that matter, had names and if they did, whether it was okay to ask what they were. The one in front of him looked back at the other one and he thought he saw the one standing frown a bit, but then her face lightened and he sighed. At last they didn't look mad.

"I'm Esme and this is Rosalie," the darker haired one said smiling gently at him. This time she did reach out and touch his face just a little, but she pulled her hand away before he could do anything stupid, like press against it.

He looked closer at Rosalie and thought that maybe her hair was glowing it was so golden and before he could stop himself he burst out, "Are you angels?"

Their laughter was like candy for his ears. He guessed it was a stupid question but he wanted to hear them laugh again so he was willing to risk it to ask another. "Princesses?"

And he was rewarded as they laughed again. He didn't think they were laughing at him so he didn't feel bad and even laughed a little too.

"No Edward, we're your neighbors," Esme said softly standing slowly. She held out her hand to him. "Now let's walk you home. I'm sure your mommy and daddy are worried about you."

He shoved his army men in his pocket and reached out for her hand trying to hide his disappointment that they were neither princesses nor angels, but then he decided it was a good thing, because if they had been either, he might never see them again. If they were his neighbors, he could see them all the time.

"I don't live with my mommy and daddy," he said thinking it was important to make sure they understood that right up front. He looked down at his hand held in Esme's. He was confused. Her hand was as cold as he'd ever felt from another person, but even more strange, it was smooth and hard. He felt like he was holding a round hard rock like the kind that he and Jacob found on the beach, but even if it was so cold it felt like an ice cube, it still was nice.

"Who do you live with, sweetheart," Rosalie's voice was as sweet as Esme's.

He didn't think twice about gripping her hand when she held it out to him and wasn't surprised that it felt just like Esme's. No, maybe they weren't angels or princesses but they were different from anyone else he'd ever met and that made him feel special.

"I live with George and Karen and Mike and Tyler and Eric." He decided not to mention the _foster home _part. He was embarrassed that his real mommy and daddy didn't want him and he didn't want these pretty ladies to think he was bad, because he knew that most kids in foster homes were bad or at least that's what he was told.

"I see, well that sounds nice," Esme said.

He didn't tell her that it wasn't nice, but thought she might ask another question and wished she would just so he could hear her voice again, but they walked, he between them, silently along the path of the river. So he thought he should speak again.

"I followed the river so I wouldn't get lost. There's a path here and as long as I was by the river and on the path it would be okay."

"You're a very smart boy," Rosalie said and he couldn't help but look up at her and grin. No one ever called him smart except George when he called him smarty pants and the office lady at school and neither one said it like it was a good thing. Not like Rosalie.

The closer they got to the_ reservation _the slower he walked. He didn't want them to see where he lived and worse, he didn't want them to go and knock on the door of his house. Thinking about his two pretty princesses meeting George made him want to cry.

"Are you getting tired Edward, do you need me to carry you?" Esme's voice was so sweet but he shook his head violently and looked at his feet, humiliated that she thought of him as a baby. He had almost stopped, but now he walked faster, as fast as his legs could go without running.

He was surprised when he heard them talking, soft little whispers but even though they were having a conversation right over his head, he couldn't understand what they were saying. It was like grown-up talk, but instead of not understanding the words, he couldn't hear any clear words at all. The only thing he understood was _Quill…yoot_ and _border_.

"Where is your house Edward, can you see it from here?" Esme stopped and she and Rosalie let go of his hands.

He flexed his fingers. They were so cold he could hardly move them; he wondered if they were sick. Finally he pointed, picking out the lone weather beaten white house in the foreground of the others. It was the closest one.

"Do you think you can walk back home by yourself?" Esme had turned him and lifted his chin up so his eyes were looking into hers. She had the most beautiful eyes, gold and sparkly.

"I'm not a baby, I'm seven years old," he said thinking it important to remind her of that. He knew he was short for seven but he didn't think he was so short that she thought he needed to be carried or walked to his house which wasn't even very far away.

"Oh of course, young man. What was I thinking," she said with an understanding chuckle. "We'll stay right here until you get safely into the house."

He thought that was very much what a mother would say and he felt a warm tingling in his stomach. Nobody ever talked to him like that before and that was probably why he couldn't stop himself from saying something stupid.

"I can come back tomorrow night, if you want."

He felt his ears burn in embarrassment when he caught the look that passed between them. He could always tell what people were thinking, even when they didn't say anything out loud. They didn't want to see him again.

"Now Edward, it's not safe to be out in these woods at night, even if you stay on the path by the river," Rosalie said, patting him on the top of his head when he didn't look at her. "We usually aren't out here either so it was just luck that we saw each other tonight. Okay?"

He nodded; deciding it was better that he didn't speak and say something else stupid.

"It was nice meeting you, Edward," Esme said when he turned away, so she wouldn't see his face and think he was a _crybaby_. "Maybe we'll see you in town one day,"

He waved his hand back at them as he ran towards his house. He didn't want to tell them that no one took him to town or anywhere else unless he was going to school and that was nowhere near town. When he reached the door he turned and looked but his beautiful pale princesses were gone and they didn't even wait to see that he was _safely inside_. Not that it mattered. Inside and safe was something that didn't exist in his world and George was still up waiting for him anyway.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

_**A couple of things…Part One of this story is being written in the third person because I wasn't sure that I or anyone else would find it very interesting to hear a first person account from a young child. But now as I read this, I realize I've pretty much written it in the first person and only changing the "I" to a "He" keeps it from being so. **_

_**The italicized words are meant to emphasis words that Edward hears from others or significant words in his mind. Often they will represent words above the intellectual capacity of a seven year old and they will probably diminish as he ages.**_

_**Reviews would be welcomed. ;o)**_


	3. First Sight

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: Contains accounts of physical and verbal abuse against a child. Please read with caution.**_

_**Chapter Two – First Sight**_

* * *

Every night for two weeks Edward followed the path along the river looking for the princesses, hopeful that they would want to see him again, that he'd made an _impression_ on them. He would stay in the woods later and later peering into the darkness and when they didn't materialize he began venturing off the trail always being careful to keep the river in sight.

He didn't talk to anyone else about them, not even Jake who was his best friend most of the time. He just wasn't sure that anyone would believe him and he didn't want to give anyone another reason to think he was a _weird little kid_. Besides, even if they did believe him, he liked the idea that it was only he that knew about them. No one else on the _reservation_ talked about seeing beautiful ladies that wandered around the woods at night so he guessed he was the only one that had ever seen them.

But after a while he stopped going into the woods at night, stopped believing in them himself and tried to ignore the wet tears that ran down his cheeks when he would pack up his army men and head home to his basement. He didn't like being a crybaby about it, but he thought they might have _really_ liked him and he wasn't use to being _really_ liked by anyone. After a while he sort of forgot about them and had a hard time remembering what they looked like and a while after that, he thought he might have dreamed the entire thing and was glad he never told anyone about them in the first place.

He never did find out what bad things people were saying about George and Karen and since he wasn't the one that said anything, he couldn't tell George what it was, not even after George hit him with his belt thirteen times. He had a hard time sitting down for a few days, but the good thing was that so did Mike, Tyler and Eric and that meant they left him alone. The bad thing was that _social services _came and visited the house which made George mad and Karen nervous so after the nice lady talked to all of them and after they lied like they'd been taught to do; they had to go three whole days with no food as _punishment._

He didn't really mind so much. There were lots of places he could get food and Jake even invited him over for hotdogs one day for lunch and not having food was better than being hit, but it made his foster brothers _irritable _and they spent an entire afternoon burning him with a cigarette lighter. Well, they weren't really burning him, they were burning the stink bugs that they put on him, but he got burned along with the bugs. When Karen saw the blisters all over his arms and on his stomach and even his back, she made him sit in a tub of water with ice cubes in it and no matter how much he cried and tried to get out she held him down, telling him to stop being such a _big baby_ or she would burn him too.

The good thing was that Mike got locked up in a closet for an entire day and wasn't let out even to go to the bathroom which Edward thought was pretty funny when he wasn't crying from the cold water or blisters from the burns.

On the Saturday following the week he was burned, Jake asked him over for dinner with a bunch of the Quil…yoot families. At first Edward didn't want to go; he knew without having anyone tell him that he didn't really belong on the reservation, didn't really fit in and he didn't want to do anything that might make him get noticed by the _adults, _but Jake said he could invite a friend and Edward was his friend. So he went even though he felt a little stupid that he was the only kid without a mom and dad at the party. Eventually he forgot that he was _uncomfortable_ and just ran around and played with the other boys who didn't seem to notice that he was the only white kid without parents at Billy's party, but when he saw a police car driving slowly up Billy's driveway, he got scared and hid in the woods. Police cars usually meant something _bad_ was going to happen and he didn't want to be around when it did or he would get in more trouble then he already was for even being at Billy's.

He felt better when he saw it was only Charlie who was Billy's friend and came to the _reservation_ a lot even though he wasn't _Quil-yoot_ and wasn't _part _Indian just like him. Charlie was also the policeman that brought Mike to live with Karen and George and ever since then his life had been pretty bad, but he couldn't blame Charlie for that. He was surprised to see a little girl get out of the passenger side of the police car. She looked scared and quickly ran over to hold Charlie's hand. He wondered if she might be a _foster kid_ and if maybe she was coming to live with him.

When no one came looking for him in the woods and everyone went into the back yard he followed. Charlie was drinking a beer with Billy and some of the other _Quil…yoot_ dads and Jake was standing by the girl who was still holding Charlie's hand. She didn't look very happy that everyone was staring at her so he thought he should probably just wait until the others went away. He knew what it was like to be the center of attention and he didn't like it at all. But just when he was ready to go find Quil and Embry, she looked up at him and caught him staring.

She looked really scared, more scared then even he was the first time he came out and saw all the Indians. She had dark brown hair like Charlie and was pale white and she stood out like a sore thumb next to Jacob's sisters, Rachel and Rebecca who were trying to push Jake away. He thought it would be a good thing to smile at her and show her he was friendly and just like her and he was happy to see that she smiled back at him. He decided for a little girl she was very pretty, much prettier than most girls he knew and suddenly he felt shy, not wanting her to see him in his old dirty clothes and shoes with the holes in the toes.

But right at that moment Jake saw him and waved him over and he didn't want to look like a _weird little kid _by running off in the woods to hide so he reluctantly walked over to Jake's side ignoring the mean stares of the twins.

"Edward, this is Bella, she's the same age as you. Charlie's her dad," Jake said politely. "She lives with her mom and only comes here in the summer."

"Hi Bella," he said shyly. She was even prettier up close. She looked like a doll, but he didn't think he would mention that, because some girls might not like being compared to a doll.

"Hi Edward." She was still looking at him so hard it made him look away.

"Come on Bella, let's go inside and play," Rachel said. Bella was a girl so it made sense she would want to go play with the girls, but he really hoped she wouldn't and she didn't seem to want too.

"Bella, why don't you go play with the girls, "Charlie pulled his hand away from hers, and was trying to encourage her to go.

Edward noticed how he said _girls_ which sounded like he didn't want Bella to play with the boys, namely him and Jake and namely him judging by the way Charlie was looking at him.

"I know you, you're Edward right?" the policeman asked him before he could slink away.

He nodded his head and looked up at Charlie knowing adults didn't like it when their questions were ignored.

"How are you getting along living with George and Karen? Is Mike behaving himself?"

He nodded his head again then thought he probably should say something. "It's fine, they're nice, Mike is nice."

Billy made a funny noise and Charlie looked at him strangely, so he thought it was probably wrong to say they were nice. Everyone knew George and Karen weren't nice and Mike came to the foster home in a police car so how nice could he be? But then Bella came in that same police car and she seemed pretty nice.

"Well if Mike ever isn't _nice_ to you, you tell Billy and I'll come out and have a _talk_ with him," Charlie said, downing his beer in one long gulp and crushing the can in his fist giving Edward a big grin.

He nodded and grinned back. He liked Charlie, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be saying any such thing about Mike to Billy or anyone else for that matter. Being a tattletale was even worse than being a _weird little kid_.

Bella spent the rest of the day playing with Rachel and Rebecca, so Edward didn't get to talk to her again, but a few times he caught her looking at him and every time he did, she would smile at him then look away like she felt embarrassed but she didn't have any reason to be embarrassed. He was the one that was _weird_ and talked _shit_ and had dirty old clothes but she didn't look at him like that and it made him feel good. So good that he didn't go home until Bella left even when he heard Karen calling for him and that earned him two slaps to the side of his head when he got home, but it didn't hurt that much and thinking about Bella made him smile even as he laid on his mattress in the dark and cried himself to sleep

* * *

Bella came to the _reservation_ a lot after that. Jacob couldn't remember that she visited so much in the past but Charlie got a _promotion_ at work so he worked a lot and Billy or Sue Clearwater would sometimes watch Bella when he was gone.

She stopped being shy around him and the others and spent most of her time playing with them just like a boy would. She didn't mind getting dirty, making mud pies, playing in the river and climbing trees. She said she didn't like dolls and didn't want to play with the twins, but she was trying to be _polite_ and Charlie told her she should play with the girls not the boys. Edward thought it was a little silly to do things you didn't want to do just so you wouldn't hurt someone's feelings. It wasn't like when he had to do things he didn't like to do just so he wouldn't get hit, but he didn't tell her that. It was easier when Sue watched her. Leah liked to play with the boys as much as Bella did so even if he didn't have her all to himself, at least she got to play outside and do boy things.

He liked Bella a lot, more than he had ever liked any girl before, maybe even more than he liked Jake. She never made fun of him or called him a _weird little kid_ like the boys did. Whenever he was with her he got a warm feeling that reminded him of how he felt when he saw the princesses in the woods that one and only time which may or may not have happened, but still, the feeling was the same. One day, when Jacob were sick and stuck in bed and it was only him and her playing outside, he decided to tell her about them making her promise over and over again that she wouldn't tell anyone or they would make fun of him.

He thought she might laugh at him when he told her about seeing two beautiful women walking in the woods at night, but she didn't laugh, she just nodded her head and listened to every _detail_ that he could remember. Then when he was done, she said that if she ever stayed overnight, she would come with him out in the woods and look for them and that made him feel better about the entire _incident_ and gave him hope that they really did exist.

Bella liked to read as much as he did and when she found out he didn't have any books to read except when he went to school which was out for the summer, she started bringing him her own books. He kept them safe from his _foster_ brothers by hiding them under his mattress. It was during their reading time together that Jake would get mad and leave them to play with Quil and Embry. Edward felt bad about that. Bella was supposed to be playing with Jake and his sisters, not him, but inevitably she always found her way to him. Not that she ever came to his house. He told her without telling her why that she couldn't ever come over.

Bella didn't know that he and his _foster_ brothers were locked out of the house ever day right after they ate their dry cereal. George and Karen didn't like being _disturbed_ during the day by _bratty_ kids so he and Mike, Tyler and Eric couldn't come inside until dinnertime on the _reservation_ which wasn't really a time, but just when all the other kids went inside to eat. If it rained, they might be able to come in so as not to _draw suspicion_, but otherwise they sat on the porch of the house or played in the big shed that no one seemed to own or in Edward's case, went to Billy's or Leah's or hid in the old barn by Quil's house. He sometimes felt sorry for his foster brothers for not having any _Indian_ friends, but then he remembered it was because they were_ bullies _and none of the kids on the reservation were allowed to play with any of them and it was their own fault that they didn't have any friends except for each other.

Even though Bella seemed to prefer to play with him, it was Jake and his sisters that were supposed to be her playmates not Edward. He was a _foster kid_ and therefore was _bad_ and Charlie was worried about Bella hanging out with him or at least that is what Billy said to Harry one day when they didn't know Edward was there. Jake heard too but tried to pretend he didn't but worse of all Bella heard and when she looked at him with her big brown eyes and asked behind her hand what a _foster kid_ was, he ran from the house so she wouldn't see the big tears running down his cheeks. He didn't even care that Billy and Harry saw him, but after that, Billy had trouble _meeting his eyes _and he didn't feel he was very welcome in Jacob's house any more.

He didn't see Bella as much when he didn't go to Jakes, but when he heard them out playing he would run in the woods by Billy's house and call to Bella from the trees. She would wait until Jake wasn't _paying attention_ and come find him and they would run along the river bank or find a spot in a tree to read.

Eventually he told her about the _foster_ home and George and Karen and Mike and Tyler and Eric being honest but not telling her anything that made him look like a baby or a _weird little kid_ and when he was done she started to cry.

"What's wrong Bella?" he asked, upset with himself for telling her a sad story.

"They're so mean to you, it makes me so mad. I hate them." Bella sniffled.

He was surprised at how angry she sounded.

"Where is your mom and dad?" She asked, placing a hand on the back of his neck and rubbing it gently.

He felt warm all over from her touch and didn't understand why he reacted in such a way. It reminded him of the princesses in the woods, but where their touch was cold; Bella's was warm so it wasn't really the same. They were sitting in their favorite tree branch in Billy's back yard.

"I don't know, they just left one day and never came back. The babysitter had to take me to the police station because she had to go home."

"Maybe they just got in traffic and were late. Maybe they looked for you."

Edward shook his head slowly. He had already gone over it and over it. Even if they were late and came home and he was missing, they should have gone to the police station because that's where people went when their little boys were lost. Or at least that's what he had been told. "No the police looked for them for a long time, but they were just gone. I had to stay in the county home for a few weeks but then I was sent to George and Karen's house and I've been here through one whole grade of school and all of this summer."

Bella nodded, and sighed. "I'm going to tell my daddy to get you away from those mean people and you can come and live at his house. He's there all by himself most of the time and he has a big house. You can stay in my room."

Edward didn't say anything at first. It would be nice to live with Charlie, but Charlie was Bella's dad and if he was a _weird little kid_ then Charlie would find out about it and might not let him see Bella when she came home. Besides, Charlie didn't think it was a good idea that he and Bella played together so he probably wouldn't want him staying in Bella's bedroom whether she was home or not.

"It's not so bad at George and Karen's, especially now that _social services_ comes to check on us and I get to see you almost every day. I'd be sad at your dad's house if you weren't there. You should move here. How far away is Arizona? Maybe I could come visit you."

"Bella shook her head sadly. "You have to fly on a plane and it's really hot most of the time. I think it's a long way away."

"Is it by the sun?" he asked, thinking Arizona didn't sound like a very nice place to live.

Bella shrugged then held up the book in her hand, _Island of the Blue Dolphin_. "Almost done."

These weren't picture books. Bella was an _advanced_ reader for her age. Edward didn't know exactly what that was, but she told him that he was an _advanced _reader too, because he could read the same books she did and they were the same age. He didn't know if he believed her or not; he wasn't advanced in anything as far as he knew, but it felt good that she thought so, so he didn't argue with her.

His favorite book so far was Harry Potter. Bella only had the first book here in Forks because Charlie bought it for her and didn't know she already read them, but she had the whole set back in Arizona. When she found out how much he liked it, she asked Charlie to buy her the second one too and gave it to him for his birthday. Never mind that his birthday was a month before and he hadn't gotten any gifts; she said birthdays were for gifts and she hadn't known him then so this was a _belated _birthday gift. Now he had three books; _Harold and his Purple Crayon_, _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _and _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets__. _ He kept them all hidden under his mattress with his army men and baseball. So far it was the best hiding spot and his _foster_ brothers didn't like the basement too much so they usually didn't mess with his stuff.

When he was with Bella, he forgot about George and Karen and his _foster _brothers and even when she left with Charlie every night, he still had that warm feeling in his stomach and didn't notice too much when there wasn't enough for him to eat or when Mike would jump him and hold him down so Tyler and Eric could pinch him until he had big red welts all over his body. He would just keep imagining Bella and spending the whole day with her, thinking about doing it all over again the next day.

But then it all came to an end and that shouldn't have surprised him too much. Anything good in his life never lasted. It was only three weeks before school started and all the kids on the_ reservation _were going shopping for school supplies and school clothes except for Edward and his _foster _brothers. Edward didn't mind so much because he had Bella, but then Bella told him she had to leave and that it would be their last day together.

They were sitting in the tree outside of Jacobs's house reading like they did almost every day. Sue Clearwater had taken Jacob shopping because he didn't have a mom and that was what moms did. Edward tried not to think about how he didn't have a mom either but no one took him school shopping. He wasn't _Quil…yoot_ so no one was _responsible _for making sure he had new things for school. If he was sad about that, it didn't' compare to how sad he was when he found out Bella was leaving. She said that Charlie was taking work off the next day so they could spend it together in the city and then she was leaving that night to go home.

He didn't cry when she told him but just kept staring at the pages of the book he was almost done with, _The Mouse and the Motorcycle_. It was her book and she had to take it back to the library before she left so he needed to finish it. He tried to concentrate but he felt his face burning and was glad that his hair was longer than most boys and covered his his ears which were burning too. She didn't say anything else or ask him any questions and he was glad for that because he was pretty sure that he was going to cry.

But he didn't cry. No one liked a crybaby, and he didn't think Bella would be any different. Instead, he pretended to read the book which up until then he'd been enjoying very much and when Jacob came home from shopping, Bella had to go inside with him and have lunch and spend some time with him and Billy and the twins before she left.

They jumped from the tree together and she hugged him as tight as her arms could until he hugged her back and even though he didn't look up at her, he could hear her sniffle and saw her wipe her face a few times and he knew she was crying and she didn't care that he knew and somehow that made him feel a little better. She was sad too.

He didn't leave right away. It was still early in the day and no one was making lunch for him and he didn't really want to go back to the house where his_ foster_ brothers were playing in the yard so instead he sat in the woods by Billy's house and waited until Charlie came and the last he saw of _his_ Bella, she was waving goodbye to Jacob. But even through the windshield of the car he could see her eyes were looking in his direction. She was looking for him and this made him feel a little better, at least for a little while.

But after the squad car disappeared down the dirt road leading off the _reservation_ he ran, and this time he didn't follow the path or the river; he didn't care about getting lost and he didn't want anyone to see him cry.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

_**To clarify something for those readers not in the US, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was the first in the series of Harry Potter books, but the name was changed to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone in the United States.**_

_**I hope staying exclusively in the mind of a seven year old isn't too redundant. His vocabulary isn't that extensive despite being an advanced reader which is why I decided to write his childhood from a third person POV in the first place, but I'm obviously not utilizing the benefit of it and have told this story as a child would.**_

_**Reviews would be wonderful.**_


	4. Monsters Everywhere

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: Graphic descriptions of physical and verbal abuse against a child. Read with caution.**_

_**Chapter Three – Monsters Everywhere**_

* * *

Edward didn't start getting worried until it was so dark he couldn't see the tops of the trees anymore. He was lost. There was no question about that. He had done a dumb thing and run into the woods, not following any path and not _paying attention_ to where he was going and when he finally stopped, he could see nothing but trees and ferns and grass, no matter which way he looked. He couldn't even tell where he had just come from.

At first it didn't matter. He was happy to be alone so he could cry and no one would hear him. He sat down in the middle of the wet green carpet of grass and cried, huge hiccupping sobs that he would never do in front of George or Karen or his _foster _brothers or anyone on the _reservation_. He didn't know if Bella would mind, but he was glad she couldn't see or hear him. He didn't want her to think he was a baby. It made him feel a little better that she seemed sad to be leaving him too. He didn't see her sniffle or cry when she said good bye to Jacob and she'd known him a lot longer. He thought he might be as special to her as she was to him.

But being specialdidn't help his _situation_, because now he was lost and he would get in _big trouble_ when he went home. He tried to think in his mind how long it would take before anyone would know he was missing. George would be watching_ sports_ on TV and drinking his beer and something he had in a bottle that smelled bad and tasted like icky medicine from the one time he tried it when no one was looking. He probably wouldn't notice that Edward wasn't home at all unless one of his _foster_ brothers tattled.

Karen on the other hand, would notice right away. She always checked to make sure everyone was home before she locked the house up. It was her _responsibility_ as the _foster _mom to make sure they were all inside. Now that it was dark, she would check and find him missing and then she would be mad and that would be bad, very bad for him.

He decided he better try to walk home even if he didn't know the way but it wasn't easy. The ferns and weeds and all the green grass was thick and the moss was slippery and he fell down a lot until he was almost completely covered in mud. Now he was lost and really dirty and he didn't think it was laundry day for at least three more days so he would have to wear dirty clothes for the rest of the week.

He didn't get scared until he heard _weird noises_ that sounded like birds squawking but not the birds he heard in the daytime which didn't make _weird noises,_ but sang and chirped like normal birds. These birds were screaming, if they were even birds at all and he thought something might be killing them so he began to run. But it was hard to run when he didn't know where he was going and couldn't see even a few feet in front of his face and even if he could see, he was crying so hard, that it wouldn't have mattered.

Eventually he had to rest so he sat down on a log and he tried to wipe his face with his muddy hands and he made himself stop crying so he could _think_. He didn't care that he would get into _big trouble_ from George and Karen anymore. He thought being home even if he was going to get _punished _was better than being in the woods with the large squawking birds that sounded like something was killing them. He thought pretty much anything was better than being out in the woods alone in the dark and he couldn't remember when he had been as scared as he was at that moment.

When he saw a white flash of color that didn't look like it belonged out there in the pitch black night, he at first felt better. He remembered how his princesses had glowed like that and he thought maybe they had found him and would take him home like they did last time. Maybe they weren't really his neighbors and just lived in the woods looking out for lost little boys like him and the reason he hadn't seen them was because he wasn't ever really lost, not when he stayed on the path by the river. But this time he _was_ lost so maybe they were coming to rescue him.

He saw the white flash again but this time it was on the other side of him and it was clearer and closer. Edward wasn't sure how he knew it was not one of his princesses, since it really moved too fast to see, but unlike when he saw his princesses, this white glowing thing made his stomach knot up and before he could stop himself he opened his mouth to scream, but now sound came out just a big gust of air. Maybe _it_ hadn't seen him. He slid behind the log on his hands and knees and peered over it, looking where the white glowing thing had been but _it_ wasn't there anymore,_ it_ was on the other side of him and_ it_ was closer.

He finally knew what it was to see a real monster, not like a pretend monster or a monster that was really just George or Karen or his _foster_ brothers on a bad day but a true monster; the kind that would eat little boys like him that were so stupid as to get lost in the woods when it was dark outside.

Goosebumps covered his skin and he started shivering even though he didn't feel cold. He watched the white thing get closer and closer and even though he knew _it_ was like his princesses, this one was stalking him. He was frozen in place, couldn't run if he wanted to; his eyes were as big and wide as they would go, but he didn't blink, he didn't move. He knew better than to move. He'd seen a stray cat on the reservation hunt mice and birds and the minute they tried to run or fly away, the cat would pounce. He thought that was what the white glowing thing was waiting to do to him.

So he sat locked in place and watched until _it_ stopped and just stared at him waiting for him to move. That was how monsters were; they took their time and made sure that little boys and probably little girls were good and scared before they ate them.

He remained still for so long that his legs folded under him began to hurt. He had a better look at the monster now. Even though he didn't see _it_ move, _it_ was closer, much closer. He whimpered. The monster wasn't a creature with twenty eyes and long fangs, but a man that looked much like his princesses did. His skin was pearly white and glowing, his hair was golden colored like Rosalie, but it wasn't any of those things that made him so scary. It was his eyes, solid black against his pale face, like marble eyes, dead eyes or maybe he didn't have any eyes at all and Edward was just looking into the man's head, but either way they were terrifying and he wondered what was it about the woods that could produce these white ghost-like creatures, some so frightening and spooky where others were friendly and nice.

He squeaked a little when he saw that_ it_, the man had moved closer again. Now he looked like a statue. Not even his chest moved. He was getting ready to pounce; Edward was sure of it. No matter how still he held himself, he could feel his body trembling and he guessed the monster in front of him must have seen it too. He understood now why the mice always ran and the birds always flew, even when they knew it was dangerous to move. No matter how much he told himself _not to move_, he wanted to jump up and run as fast as he could away from_ it_ which was the worst mistake he could make.

But it wasn't Edward that moved first, it was the monster, the man whose head suddenly snapped around and looked towards the trees.

"Jasper!"

A voice, he heard it, a women's voice. It sounded like his princesses' voice but it was different, higher, almost singing. He didn't move a muscle but his eyes shifted towards the trees and sure enough there was another one; a girl, a beautiful girl in a tree closer than the man and he hadn't even heard her coming.

"Jasper, you won't hurt him," she said.

Edward was confused. Was she calling the monster in front of him Jasper and who wasn't he going to hurt? Oh…but then he remembered. It was him. Apparently the monster had a name and it was Jasper and the pretty girl knew that he wasn't going to hurt him though how she knew that he wasn't sure, because as far has he could see, Jasper had been ready to do that very thing.

He turned his head just a little to look at her better and saw that she was looking at him too and her eyes were sparkling gold like his princesses, so she must be one of them too and then he felt better. Or he thought he felt better until he realized he was making funny sounds and was crying like a big baby in front of the pretty new princess and the scary monster man called Jasper.

"Oh don't cry little one, we're sorry we scared you," she said, apparently not understanding that she hadn't scared him at all.

He wasn't sure if he liked being called _little one_ but he wasn't going to complain given the _circumstances. _He did try to stop crying, because he was pretty sure that he had cried enough for the night and it never did any good to cry anyway, it only made things worse. He felt a little better when he looked at Jasper out of the corner of his eye and saw that he had not only moved away but his eyes didn't look like black holes in his head any more. They looked gold and sparkly just like the girl and his princesses. He didn't look like he was about to eat him and that made it easier to stop crying.

"Are you lost?" she asked still keeping a little back from him but squatting down so she could look at him directly in the eye.

He thought about lying and saying he wasn't lost, but then he didn't know how he was going to get home and there could be more Jaspers in the woods that wouldn't be stopped by a pretty girl with spiky brown hair that sort of looked like a crown. So instead he just nodded.

"Well I think we better get you home. What's your name?" She was standing again but he didn't remember her doing it.

"I'm E…Edward An…thony M…Masen and I'm s…seven years old," he stuttered, feeling stupid and foolish that he was talking like a baby.

"Ahhh. So you're the young man, Esme and Rosalie told us about." The girl chirped, clapping her hands. "I'm Alice and this is Jasper and we're your neighbors too."

Edward wasn't sure what he thought about that. He was happy that they knew Esme and Rosalie and he thought it would be nice that Alice was his neighbor, but he wasn't sure that he liked Jasper very much. He might be too scared to come into the woods anymore, if he knew Jasper was around.

"Do you want us to walk you home?" Alice said holding out her hand.

He looked over at Jasper who he could barely see now. He moved again. He was far away but he glowed in the dark so it wasn't hard to find him.

"Don't worry, Jasper can be scary but he won't hurt you." Alice patted him on the head when he didn't take her hand.

He wasn't too sure about that. He thought Jasper might very well have hurt him if Alice hadn't come along but he couldn't understand why. Now that he knew Jasper wasn't a monster and just a man, he could think of no good reason why he might want to eat a seven year old boy but he didn't want to say anything because he thought that might be _rude._

Instead he held up his hand so Alice could see it was dirty. He didn't want her to feel bad for not taking it, but she took it anyway and before he could even tell her where he lived she started walking with him through the trees. Her hand was as cold as Esme and Rosalie's had been and this made him feel like she could be _trusted_, that she was who she said she was.

From time to time he looked over his shoulder at Jasper who never came any closer than he already was and pretty soon he stopped looking back because Alice was talking to him and she talked fast so he had to listen _carefully_ to understand her.

She was telling him that they lived in a big house not far from there and that besides Rosalie who she thought of as a sister and Esme who she thought of as a mother, there was Emmett who was like a brother and Carlisle who was like her father. He was sorry to hear that there were two more men at the house and he hoped they weren't like Jasper. He didn't think he would be going into the woods too much anyway so maybe he wouldn't ever get to meet them.

He didn't know where he was or how much further they had to go and he didn't want to ask if Alice knew where she was going, how she knew or how much further it was, but he surprised himself and her when he just stopped walking and sat down on the ground. He was too tired to go any further and he didn't even care that she knew it and would think he was being a baby.

"Are you tired, honey?"

He nodded and yawned for _emphasis_ but he really didn't feel that kind of tired.

"Here, let me carry you."

Before he could tell her he was too big to be carried she picked him up and held him on her hip like he'd seen Sue Clearwater do when she was carrying Seth around but Seth was a lot younger and smaller than him. Alice didn't seem to think he was too big and he didn't feel like she might drop him so then he thought that maybe he wasn't as big as he thought if this girl could carry him as easy as if he were a baby.

Her arm was ice cold around his back and he thought she was really strong for a girl but of course he didn't mention that, because he didn't want her to tell him that no he was just really little for a seven year old. After he stopped being embarrassed about being carried he realized that they were going really fast. So fast in fact that he could hardly see the trees, they were just a blur and he barely had time to rest his head against her shoulder and think how nice she smelled, like cake with the frosting still on it, when she stopped and said he was home.

He looked up from her shoulder and saw that they were close to Jake's house, not anywhere near his house which made sense. She didn't know where he lived but maybe she could see which way he'd come from when he left Jake's that afternoon. He decided not to say anything and sighed when she slowly slid him to the ground. He liked being held in her arms even if he was too big. She had strong arms and she moved really fast and she smelled good and he felt safe when she held him.

"Are you alright, can you make it from here?" she asked stroking his cheek with her cold finger.

He nodded his head again and decided not to say anything. He didn't want to stutter like an _idiot _in front of her again and she didn't need to know that this was the wrong house. It wasn't far for him to walk home and he didn't want her to see where he really lived. It was bad enough that Esme and Rosalie knew that the rundown old house was his.

"I'm sorry Jasper scared you honey. He was just surprised to see you. It's not often that we run across little boys out in the woods at night." She appeared sad that he'd been afraid of Jasper, but he was too tired to lie to her to make her feel better. Jasper was scary.

Instead he reached his hands up to her to give her a hug and she smiled a big huge smile and hugged him in her arms so tight, lifting him up in the air then putting him back on the ground again, but not before he got another good smell of her. It was the best smell, one he thought he would never forget.

"Good night Edward."

"Bye," he replied softly, waving his hand back at the spot of white he could see in the trees that he knew was Jasper. Even if he was super scary, he was Alice's friend so he thought he should try and be _polite._ Besides, Jasper hadn't hurt him so there was no good reason not to be.

* * *

Edward stood outside his house for a long time but he couldn't see any sign that anyone was up waiting for him, so maybe he would luck out and could sneak in before anyone noticed he was gone. The front door was locked, but he knew that by lifting the door knob he could open it. He was pretty sure they all knew the secret to getting the door open when it was locked, even Karen but he didn't think she knew that they knew.

Once in the house he snuck downstairs and in the dark of his basement he took off his clothes that were full of mud and sopping wet. He felt bad that Alice had to carry him home and get mud on her clothes and he didn't understand why she looked so clean running in the same woods as he did. It was only then that he saw that the wet on his clothes wasn't just from the wet grass and just when he thought he had no more tears left he started crying again.

He had peed himself and it was all over his jeans and his underpants and on his legs and probably all over Alice too. He couldn't remember doing it and didn't think he had to go to the bathroom even once, but then he remembered how he had been so afraid when he saw Jasper, not knowing it was Jasper and he thought that was probably when he did it and that thought made him cry harder. He was a big baby. Not only did he cry like one but he let himself be carried like one and he peed himself like one and now probably got Alice's nice clothes full of his pee too. He was horrified about what she would think of him when she finally noticed it and this made him cry harder, forgetting that he needed to be _quiet_ so he wouldn't wake George or Karen up.

After he changed into his pajamas and climbed onto his mattress covering himself with his only blanket he felt a little better and decided that as long as he didn't go in the woods anymore he wouldn't have to worry about seeing Alice or get embarrassed for being a baby. No one else knew and he could wash his clothes tomorrow to get rid of any pee smell before he threw them in the laundry. He'd almost drifted off to sleep when he heard a thumping above him and realized someone was walking around upstairs.

He didn't get that feeling of stark terror like he had when Jasper was stalking him, but he felt the knot in his stomach that made him feel like he was going to be sick and he froze just like he had out in the woods and listened. Back and forth…back and forth; he could hear someone moving; heavy footsteps so it was probably George and that made him feel a little better. George drank a lot at night and he didn't go down stairs very well, so if it was George he probably wouldn't _punish_ him until morning.

He listened harder. Now he thought he heard voices, but he couldn't be sure. Sometimes they would get into big fights and yell and scream at each other all night keeping him and his _foster_ brothers awake. It was during those times he liked being in the basement by himself away from the fighting. It was quieter and usually the fighting stayed upstairs though sometimes they fought in the yard too.

But then he heard the click of the basement door at the top of the stairs and he felt a shudder run through his body. They were coming down for him. They heard him come home or they heard him cry but either way they knew he was there and he was going to be _punished_.

There wasn't any light in the basement but the upstairs light reached the bottom of the stairs and from where he lay he could see the shadow of George as he descended the stairs. There was no other way out of the basement so he couldn't runaway. Instead he rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his arms, protecting himself in the best way he knew how.

But George didn't give him a chance. Instead of hitting him, he grabbed his foot and dragged him from the bed without saying anything, not a word and even when Edward gripped at the sides of the mattress holding on as long as he could, George just jerked him hard and he lost his hold and was pulled across the cement floor.

Real terror took hold of him then, like the terror of being in the woods with Jasper stalking him, but this time he knew there would be no pretty princesses to save him; this time he was all on his own. George didn't say anything when he dragged him up the stairs still holding him by one foot ignoring Edward's screams and kicks as he tried to free his leg, but Karen said a lot. She was standing at the top of the stairs and she was saying plenty.

"You ungrateful little _shit_. Are you trying to get us in trouble, running wild all over the _reservation_, disappearing for hours and hours coming home whenever the fuck you feel like it."

George lifted him up by the ankle when they reached the top of the stairs and dropped him head first at Karen's feet. Fortunately he had his arms in front of his face and it only hurt a little, but then Karen kicked him in his stomach and that hurt a lot.

"Where were you? Tell me the fuck where you were or so help me I will beat the shit out of you!"

Edward rolled on his back holding his stomach trying to think what he should say that would get him in _less trouble_. He lied a lot and was pretty good at it, except it was hard to know which was better, to tell the truth or to lie and if he lied, which lie he should use. If he said he was at Billy's playing with Jacob that would make George mad. George hated Billy. If he said he was at Sue's playing with Leah which he rarely ever did, that would make Karen mad, because a long long time ago, George and Sue were boyfriend and girlfriend. If he said the truth, that he got lost in the woods, that would make them both mad because getting lost sometimes meant calling the police and if they had to call the police then _social services_ would get involved and that would _jeopardize_ everything.

So instead he thought fast and decided to tell a little bit of truth but mostly a lie.

"I fell asleep on the path by the river. I was reading and I just fell asleep." He sat up, not straight, it hurt too much to sit up straight and held out his hands shrugging his shoulders.

He was looking up in Karen's general direction and didn't see the kick from George coming. He was hit squarely in the side and didn't even have time to think about who hit him before Karen kicked him in the other side.

"Lying… green…eyed…fuck," George screamed as he punctuated each word with another kick. "We were down by the river looking for you so unless you are totally fucking deaf, you weren't anywhere near the fucking river."

Edward didn't try to come up with a better lie. He didn't think it mattered what he would say. It was going to be a bad night and he just had to do what he could to _minimize_ _the damage_. He curled himself in a ball and felt them kick him over and over again. It was a good thing they both were barefoot or it might have been really bad. George had steel toed boots and one kick from them could make him pee blood for a week.

After a while they got tired of kicking him and he thought they might go to bed, but then he felt the snapping noise and knew that George had gotten his belt. His body was already numb from all the kicks so he didn't feel the belt too much unless it got him in a _sensitive place_, but he was crying and screaming all the same. He couldn't remember having cried so much in one day in all of his life. Even when he found out his mommy and daddy were gone for good he hadn't cried that much.

He kept his eyes firmly clenched shut but he could still feel the tears leak through his closed lids and there was nothing he could do about the snot that ran out of his nose. He was pretty happy that he wasn't crying like that when Alice found him, but then what could be worse than peeing your pants like a baby.

When a blow from the belt buckle caught him in the face he cried out in pain and his eyes popped open. He was surprised to see Mike, Tyler and Eric staring out at him through the door of their bedroom, but what was really strange was the look on their faces. They looked scared, really scared, not like they were enjoying watching him get punished at all. That was strange he thought, because usually they liked it when he got in trouble.

He thought he probably stopped crying about the time George stopped hitting him with the belt but he couldn't be sure. He just knew they told him to get up and go downstairs, but he couldn't do that, not even after George kicked him again and he slid across the floor towards the stairs. There was nothing he wanted more than to go down and lay on his mattress and finally get some sleep; but then he decided that right there at the top of the stairs was as good a place as any to get some sleep and if they didn't think so, they could carry him down themselves.

It was like they could read his mind, because the next thing he knew he was downstairs, though he was pretty sure they hadn't carried him down, at least not like Alice had carried him. He was pretty sure that he had been kicked down the stairs all the way to the bottom and as far as he was concerned that was just fine. The cement at the bottom of the stairs was nice and smooth and hard and cold and it sort of felt like Alice was holding him anyway.

* * *

_**A******__uthor Notes_:

_**In the words of seven year old Edward, I'm going to do a very bad thing, a very scary thing. I'm going to stray from my original outline. Initially, other than the prologue, I planned on writing this story in chronological order. Part One was going to be about Edward as a young child written in the third person and Part Two was going to be present day from Edward's POV.**_

_**But now I've decided to eliminate using a part one and part two and though I will continue in chronological order with Edward from seven on up; I am going to periodically include chapters from Edward's POV that started with the Prologue. Generally, I am not a huge fan of flashbacks or in this case, flash forwards, but I think it will give the reader a break from young Edward and you won't have to wait so long to find out what the heck is going on.**_

_**The only downside is that there won't be a lot of surprises, namely what happened to Edward in the Prologue, what is wrong with Bella and why the Cullens "abandon" Edward. I'm going to try and remain fairly cryptic for as long as I can but I think overall, writing this story almost as if it's two separate stories combined in one will make it more interesting in the long run.**_

_**So with that said, the next chapter will be from Edward's POV, Present Day.**_


	5. Walking Disaster

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: This chapter has some serious angst and thoughts of suicide. Please read with caution.**_

_**Remember this is a flash forward, so it's ten years later and a seventeen year old Edward (following the prologue)**_

* * *

**EPOV**

_Hangman's fracture._

The words hung in the air like a puff of smoke, gradually dissipating, but only after I had a chance to completely absorb what the doctor just told me. His use of slang to describe my injury was off-putting, but given my semi conscious state, it was likely that the mumbled diagnosis wasn't meant to be heard by me. Still, it left me with the lingering mental picture of the myriad of human bodies swinging at the end of rope over the centuries, their necks snapped, their lives ended.

Lovely. But I was still alive…barely.

Thankfully, I recalled very little from my first week in the hospital. I was kept in a drug induced coma to give my body a chance to heal. What little I remembered, involved pain, more pain than I thought possible to endure. It startled me…shocked me. I could feel nothing below my jaw line yet the pain was always there, near the point of my injury and throughout my body. Suffering in silence, not able to scream out my agony or move to escape was torturous. Fortunately, the ever present nurses noticed and they would inject something into one of the many tubes that surrounded me, sending me to a place of bizarre dreams and empty black oblivion.

Eventually consciousness would push away the dark shroud of numbness and I would be inundated with the bright lights and sounds of beeping machines, life saving machines and reality would hit me along with the never ending pain. I would come to learn that the spasms of my muscles that would send my motionless body into a fit of convulsions and the pain from those spasms was an agony unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. My arms and legs moved erratically and not of my own volition and several times a day my bed would be surrounded by nurses and orderlies as they held my flailing body down until the spasm had passed. At times my body would convulse so violently that the nurses would be forced to strap my body to the sides of the bed. How ironic was that. Completely paralyzed yet I had to be strapped down so I wouldn't _move_ too much.

Gradually I became more cognizant of my surroundings. I was told not to fight the ventilator that breathed for me, forcing air into my lungs and subsequently expelling it in a painfully predictable pattern. I couldn't move my head which was supported by metal tongs screwed into my skull and a counter weight that keep me in perpetual traction. A hard cervical collar also supported my head and neck, biting into my throat. I was intubated which kept me from speaking, but I was assured by one of the many nurses that came and went throughout the day that a tracheotomy would be preformed once I was stabilized and I would regain the ability to speak. If she thought that bit of news was reassuring, she was seriously mistaken. The idea of a hole being cut in my throat was terrifying.

Denial though an appealing option was not possible. All I had to do was look around me and the truth was everywhere. First there was the shear inability to move…move anything. No matter how hard I concentrated, no matter how much I tried to force my body to respond, I couldn't move. My entire world was only what I could see from moving my eyes. The beeping machines, the curtains strung up haphazardly, manufacturing rooms around patients either clinging to life or ready to let go; no one had to spell out for me that I was in the intensive care unit of a hospital.

Even before I heard and clung to the phrase _hangman's fracture_, I knew my neck was broken. There was mumblings between doctors that hovered around my bedside that it was a C1-C2 fracture and my spinal cord was crushed. I had been given no official diagnosis or perhaps I had forgotten, but I didn't need the truth spelled out for me. From what I could remember, the doctor had quickly left after giving me the barest of details. I could not ask him questions, because I could not speak and I had no one to ask them for me. For the first time in my life I understood what it was to be truly and completely alone.

Then came the questions that were almost more painful than the diagnosis. _Where was my family, t__he hospital hadn't been able to reach them. _ _Who should they contact, who would sign for any additional surgeries? Did I have any pre-existing conditions? Was I allergic to anything? Did I have insurance? _

The nurses were prepared for my inability to speak. I was to blink once for yes and twice for no. The answers I provided alarmed them. A social worker was summoned. I had plenty of experience with social workers. This one was at a loss for how to communicate with me which was fine by me. I closed my eyes, willing the tears to remain behind my lids until I was alone. When they finally leaked out I felt them slide down the side of my face. I would never be able to wipe them away again.

* * *

"...the cervical vertebrae at the top of your spine have been crushed. We will need to do surgery to reattach your skull to your spine, but you need to be stabilized first. I'm sorry to say that the prognosis is not good."

The neurosurgeon, Doctor Carthage had paused, possibly thinking I'd slipped into unconsciousness, but I had only closed my eyes against the florescent lights that glowed above me. I opened them, blinked then closed them again to show I was still with him. He was young man; not Carlisle-young, but still no older than his late thirties or early forties. I had never seen him before, but what I could see now from my peripheral vision was uninspiring. He was completely professional and totally disconnected. He could have been speaking about a lab rat for all the emotion he displayed, yet his indifference to what he was telling me made it easier for me to emulate him. I was as unemotional as he was. Only my current prone position and motionless body reminded me that I was the lab rat in this lecture and it might be wise for me to pay attention.

"You will not walk again. The most you can hope for is to get some control over your head, neck and maybe you shoulders. Given the extent of damage to your spinal cord it is unlikely that you will get any feeling or motion back below the injury point, but we won't know that for sure for many months. You are on a ventilator which is why you have a tube down your throat. You need it to breath, but in the next day or two we're going to replace it with a more permanent solution called a tracheotomy. With some practice you will regain the ability to speak. As time goes on we can attempt to wean you from the ventilator, but if I'm even remotely correct in my diagnosis of your injury, the likelihood of that happening is almost zero. Right now you just need to concentrate on getting stronger."

The only thing I could move was my eyes and I opened them again, looking at the people around my bed. They were strangers to me. The only familiar face was a woman that had been introduced as my social worker. What a lucky assignment for her; a client that couldn't walk or talk. Then there was the hospital psychologist. His very presence annoyed me though I couldn't remember him having spoken a word to me. I would not be an easy patient.

That was all. There was no family, no friends, no Bella. I was alone. And still the doctor droned on.

"Right now the biggest problem you face is the possibility of getting pneumonia. We need to keep a close eye on the any fluid buildup in your lungs. I know that suctioning can be…unpleasant…but it's a necessary evil. You need to quit provoking your team. They are only trying to help you."

_My team_? What the hell. And how was I provoking them? The doctor was an idiot. Someone needed to shove a tube down his throat choking him, cutting off his air supply; then he could lecture me on this shit.

The look on my face must have conveyed my irritation. His expression changed. He appeared almost sympathetic.

"We've tried to locate your family…your parents. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

I looked at him like he was an idiot. _I can't talk, remember doc_.

"Blink once for yes, twice for no," he said as if reading my mind.

I blinked twice.

We have been in touch with your caregiver, Sue Clearwater. She's been to the hospital several times, but she has no legal authority over you. Right now you are in the custody of the state and the state will be making decisions for you. Do you understand?

I blinked once.

Generally we only allow immediate family in the intensive care unit, but given your _situation,_ I think we can make an exception to that and allow in some friends. Is that acceptable to you?

I glared at the doctor. _What friends_?

He nodded. He was good. Flipping through my chart he pulled out a sheet of paper. "It looks like some of the boys that were with you when you were injured tried to see you. Are you okay with that?"

I blinked once.

"Also, the Forks police chief stopped by. He said you are dating his daughter. Are you comfortable with a police officer…"

I blinked once.

"Sue Clearwater…Billy Black…"

I blinked once for each of them.

"Good. Is there anyone else?"

I thought of the Cullens. They wouldn't know I was here so why did I feel disappointed that their names were not in the doctors notes.

I blinked twice.

"Okay well that's a start. Now remember Edward. The key to getting out of here is receiving your full cooperation."

I was paralyzed from the neck down, what the hell did this doctor think I could do to be uncooperative. Never mind that I bit down on the tube they used to suction out my lungs or I kept my eyes clenched shut when I was sick of their questions. In the end my rebellion was always squelched; they always won.

He smiled. Again his abilities transcended the norm. Maybe there was more to this doctor then I gave him credit for.

"I'll check on you tomorrow."

_I'll still be here. _

A lot of good sarcasm was if I couldn't speak.

* * *

Once the hospital confirmed I had no immediate family, others were allowed to visit. Sue Clearwater was the first. She looked sad, so sad and my resentment towards the Cullens intensified with her presence. She shouldn't be here. I wasn't her son. She had her own family to worry about.

Billy came but the position of his wheel chair and the massive amount of life supporting equipment kept me from being able to see him. I did see his hand cover mine, but I felt nothing. It was a sensation that I would become very familiar with. I was confused by his apologies and excuses. I couldn't fathom why he thought that Quil or Embry should have stopped me. It wasn't their fault any more than it was Jake's, yet Billy's voice quivered with his regrets.

Reluctantly the nurses allowed them to visit; my boys from the _rez. _They stood around uneasily, too young to ever feel comfortable in an intensive care unit surrounded by the gravely ill and dying. They made idle chatter with each other and laughed nervously from time to time and to their credit they stayed with me for almost an hour before the nurse shooed them out. Jacob, before leaving, leaned over and met my eyes.

"Don't worry, dude, things will get better. Just hang in there."

I smiled weakly. It couldn't get much worse. I knew I wouldn't be seeing much of them. The young were never comfortable with tragedy and I was a reminder of their own mortality.

Charlie came as a barrage of nurses and respiratory therapists were attempting to suction out the fluid that was building in my lungs threatening to turn into potentially life ending pneumonia and I caught brief glimpses of his face frozen in horror as I gasped for breath my lifeline to the ventilator briefly severed while they tubed me. He departed abruptly without ever speaking to me and I felt my eyes burn, cursing my frail body for denying me the opportunity to ask him if Bella knew of my condition.

Bella.

Nothing I was suffering through physically could compare to the mental anguish of being denied access to Bella. Unable to talk to her, unable to see her, I could no longer force myself into her life when Charlie became protective and tried to keep me out. There was a time when I was arrogant enough to believe that Bella needed me, that I was the beacon of light in her dark world and she only had to focus on me to find the way out of her never ending nightmare. And for a time, Charlie believed that too. I had him convinced; he could see for himself that Bella relied on me much more than just an average teenage boyfriend. I was her lifeline, her support but now…now what did I have to offer?

I couldn't move, couldn't take care of my most basic human needs. I had no one to help me, no one to turn too. For Charlie to allow me to remain in Bella's life, he would have to accept me as his burden as well and I wasn't deluded enough to picture any scenario where that would happen. Charlie as Bella's father had more than enough to worry about. A paralyzed boyfriend wasn't in the cards.

I spent less time worrying how Bella would feel about me as I lay confined to a hospital bed, helpless as a newborn baby. My faith in her love for me never wavered and even in my current condition I knew she would always be there for me if she could. The role reversal I was experiencing was mind blowing. I couldn't grasp how she would be able to cope with it or even if she could. Would I need to strike her off my list of visitors in order to protect her? Was I strong enough to do that? With Charlie hovering protectively around her would I even have too?

Eventually he came back. I saw him standing next to the curtain of my room, waiting for the nurses to finish swabbing out my mouth with some disgusting cherry flavored shit. There was no chair for him to sit in. I had no one to hold vigil over my bedside as the other patients in the ICU did so the chair was removed, undoubtedly given to my neighbor in the next curtain over, a comatose young women whose steady stream of visitors hadn't gone unnoticed by me.

Charlie stood awkwardly at my bedside trying to stay clear of all the tubes that ran between me and the lifesaving equipment that took up most of the small space of my _room_.

"I'm so sorry Edward, so sorry this had to happen…such a freak thing." Charlie said gruffly. "I told Billy over and over that those cliffs are dangerous, that something like this could happen…but…it was hard to convince him because…well…until now, nothing ever had."

_Until now._ That was because I hadn't tried to jump from the top _until now_. It was only me, always me. I drew bad luck like a moth to a flame. Surely he could see that, but then maybe it was a good thing he was so blissfully unaware. He might have tried harder to keep me away from his daughter if he knew I was a walking disaster.

Walking disaster. That was funny. I wouldn't be a _walking _disaster anymore; more like a horizontal calamity.

I stared at him intently. The tube down my throat kept me from speaking but my eyes must have conveyed my question.

"Bella doesn't know. I…she…I just can't tell her yet." Charlie was looking everywhere but at me. "She wasn't home last weekend; she had a little set back."

I whimpered.

"No, nothing serious…nothing you should worry yourself over. But now…it's not a good time. I know…I know…it probably will never be a good time. She's going to take this hard, Edward, no matter when I tell her and the longer I keep it from her, the worse it's going to be." Charlie paused and finally his eyes met mine. "She's going to want to come and see you, son. That's the real crux of the problem. She's going to want to see you the minute I tell her and I'm just worried that this place…seeing you here hooked up to all of these machines…well…I'm not sure how she's going to react to it. I need to try and wait as long as possible before I tell her…until you're a little better…"

Yeah, a little better or a little dead.

I didn't need him to draw me a picture. But how could I blame Charlie? His priority was Bella and he was right, seeing me like this would freak her out, could set her back in her treatment. I understood that he couldn't take any chances, but I couldn't tell him that. I could only stare at him. Eventually he looked away.

"Now Edward, there is something else. I know they've tried to talk to you about this and you've been evasive, but it's really something you need to face."

I closed my eyes. I was completely shut off from him now; I was prepared. There was something to be said for being unable to communicate. No reason to lie, no need to explain yourself or justify your actions. It was all good.

"You are still under eighteen. Sue doesn't have legal custody of you so she can't make any decisions for you. Technically your parents, your biological parents are responsible for you but we can't seem to find them anywhere. Do you have any idea where they might be? The nurses told me you can communicate by blinking…is that right? Do you know where they are?"

He waited. He would have a long wait. I kept my eyes closed and eventually he sighed.

"Well, it's not like they could have offered much help anyway."

My parents were trash. Charlie knew that better than anyone. He never held it against me. Maybe he should have.

"Which leads me to the next question. Do you know where the Cullens are?"

My eyes flew open and a strange wheezing sound emanated from my chest. I knew it was my body reacting unconsciously, attempting a sharp intake of air, fighting against the machine that relentlessly pushed air in and out of my lungs.

"Relax Edward. We don't need you getting upset." Charlie backed off instantly looking wearily at the heart monitor that beeped incessantly with the pounding of my heart. "I know you didn't part on the best of terms. But they had feelings for you, strong feelings unless I completely misread them and if you are honest with yourself, I know you had feelings for them too. They are good people. They would want to know what happened. You need family around you and I know they would come if they knew. We need to let them know what is going on."

I deliberately blinked my eyes twice.

"Be reasonable. Carlisle is a doctor. He, more than anyone would be able to understand what the hell these doctors are talking about with all their medical mumbo jumbo, plus he's got resources…money which is something you need right now. He'd make sure you had the best care money can buy. Besides it's not good for you to be alone so much. I don't know if you've realized it or not kiddo, but you are in some deep shit here and it's not something you can go through alone."

Again, I blinked twice. I thought about the black credit card Carlisle had given me. Did hospitals take credit cards? I guessed they did, but I couldn't use it; if I used it Carlisle would know; he would question it. It wasn't like the first thing a teenager did when given access to a limitless credit line would be to go on a shopping spree in a hospital.

The pressure was there. I was ready to cry, I just couldn't do it in front of Charlie, I had to wait.

"Bullheaded little shit." I heard him mumble under his breath. "Well than let me tell you how it's going to be. You will become a ward of the state and your medical care, because you have no insurance, will fall under the state's Medicaid. All your treatment will be dictated by the state. And whether you know this or not, you won't be going home; first because you have no home to go too and second because Medicaid doesn't pay for private nurses and personal caregivers. You're going to end up in the nursing home with people four times your age for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?"

Charlie's voice had risen with each assertion earning several tsk tsks from the nursing staff and even some snorts from other visitors within the small confines of the intensive care unit.

I had closed my eyes again, but I could picture his face, red with exertion, his brown eyes flashing much as Bella's did when she was angry. I felt his breath on my face when he leaned over me.

"I know you know where they went. Carlisle wouldn't just abandon you without giving you any way to contact him."

_Wouldn't he?_ I wanted to yell at him. It was probably for the best that I couldn't speak. I wanted to believe it, but I knew better and lying about it to Charlie wouldn't change the fact that there was a phone number taped to the back of that black credit card…Carlisle's new phone number.

"I knew Sue shouldn't have taken you in without knowing how to get a hold of him. Shit…shit…shit."

If I could have spoke, I would have reminded Charlie that neither Carlisle nor any of the other Cullens were legally obligated to provide Sue with anything. They had been in my life for ten years and now they were out of it. It was mutually understood that I was never one of the Cullens and the only thing that brought me into their life in the first place, was pure dumb luck and Esme's need for a child, one she couldn't have on her own.

I was the replacement son that was only good enough when I was young and cute and desperately in need of a family. Once I became the surly belligerent teenager they no longer had a use for me in their lives. How many parents wanted to disown their obnoxious teenagers, but didn't have the legal wherewithal to do it. Fortunately for the Cullens they were never in that position and could dump me whenever it was convenient for them. And they had. I certainly wasn't going to send Charlie begging on my behalf to take me back, especially now that I wasn't even whole person anymore.

Charlie stayed with me a bit longer. He didn't ask about the Cullens again and I didn't open my eyes, but I was startled when I felt his hand run along my chin as he made noises about leaving.

"Edward, you understand about Bella don't you," he asked wistfully.

I opened my eyes and blinked once.

"I'll tell her as soon as I feel she is strong enough, but you need to do your part too. You need to do what the doctors tell you and work hard, get yourself stronger so they can release you from ICU and get you in a regular room. That will help a lot. Bella's use to hospitals, she'll be able to handle it much better once you're out of here."

I blinked once.

What Charlie said made perfect sense. Bella would be scared if she saw me now. But given that I couldn't move, she would be scared if she saw me regardless. The other solution was better. The solution where I was dead. Charlie was a smart man. He wouldn't be dumb enough to bring her to my funeral.

* * *

Time had stopped for me the moment I became conscious of my surroundings. I watched the hospital staff around me, the nurses, the orderlies, the doctors that came and went popping in to my curtained world, administering medicines, checking vitals, suctioning my lungs, taking care of my bodily functions, shifting me, bathing me, prodding and poking me, before they disappeared from my world behind the green curtain again. They had lives, they went home to their families every night, they drove cars and went out to eat and saw movies. For them, they had something to live for. I had nothing. Every day was the same as the day before. I stared at the ceiling of the ICU or the curtain to the right of me or the monitors to the left. My bed was specially made for those inflicted with injuries like mine. It filled with air in various spots and those air pockets were constantly being deflated and re-inflated someplace else, trying to alleviate the problem of bedsores, the consequence of lying in one spot too long.

Eventually the tracheotomy was performed and that uncomfortable tube was finally pulled from my throat, but it was only with practice that I was able to tolerate the deflation of the balloon around the trach that allowed air to pass over my vocal cords giving me the ability to speak. Oxygen was precious to me and initially I wanted one hundred percent of it pumped into my lungs. Besides, I didn't need to speak, I had no one to talk too, so the nurses made me practice with them. Once I could tolerate the loss of oxygen, I quickly mastered the technique of speaking. It was just a matter of waiting for the whoosh of air to pass across my vocal cords then I could talk until the air was gone.

I'd been fitted with a gastric tube that went directly into my stomach pumping a nutritious concoction into me that kept my body alive, but I was still losing weight, alarmingly fast. The doctors wanted to test my swallowing reflex to see if I could take food orally, but that couldn't be done until I had the surgery to reattach my skull to my spine. A concentrated effort was made by _my team_ to clear the infection in my lungs so that I could be turned on my stomach for surgery and wouldn't drown in my own fluids.

My visitors were sporadic which was perfectly okay with me, but caused some alarm amongst the staff, my social worker and the hospital psychologist. I would have been completely content to remain secluded, shutting my eyes, letting machines keep me going, having nothing but the memories of my brown haired beautiful girlfriend to keep me company but they were a persistent bunch, those hospital staffers. I knew it was their job and I tried not to lash out too much, but their endless poking and prodding would send me over the edge and I would scream breathless obscenities at them unmindful of the close quarters of the ICU. I could almost hear Esme scolding me…_language please_.

The day came when I was told I was ready to have the surgery. At first I was apathetic about it, hardly paying attention to the doctor's endless prattling using medical terms I couldn't possible understood, offering a risk assessment and nonexistent alternatives. But when he mentioned the likelihood of dying and put the odds at fifty-fifty, my ears perked up.

The operation involved reconnecting my skull to the top of my spine by using wires and a piece of bone from my hip. A titanium pin would be fused between my first and second vertebrae and holes would be drilled in my skull so the wires could be passed through them ensuring a solid fit. It sounded medieval.

The likelihood of my dying on the operating table was high, but not doing the surgery meant I would have no mobility and would be forced to remain in a form of traction for my entire life, the fragility of my spine ultimately ending it prematurely.

I was still a minor, unable to determine my own fate, but because of the seriousness of the operation _my team_ had been assembled to make an informed decision. I found that despite it being my life, I had little to say in the matter so I mostly listened as the arguments were made for and against the surgery with the final conclusion being that I was young and needed to have the flexibility that the surgery would offer me so I might resume whatever quality of life one could have when confined to a wheelchair without use of any of my limbs and requiring a ventilator one hundred percent of the time.

"We have one of the best surgeons in the country coming in for this surgery Edward. He's done it successfully more than anyone else and he's your best hope for a successful outcome."

Immediately I was suspicious.

"Why is he coming in for me…who's paying. Does he know…I can't pay?" I gasped in time with the rush of air from the ventilator.

"He's an old colleague of mine and I asked him. Medicaid will pay the standard physician costs and he is paying his own expenses. You are doing it as much for him as he is for you. Surgeries such as this are quite rare. Most patients don't live…well…we seldom get to the point of performing surgery on patients with a C1-C2 fracture. Any doctor would appreciate the opportunity to get more experience in surgery especially when it's so rare, but I don't want you to think this is some kind of experimental surgery. He is the best there is, that's why he's coming. It's my job to make sure that you get the best care possible and stepping aside for him is my way of doing that.

I thought about telling Doctor Carthage that it would be a-okay with me if he did the surgery himself. Given the alternative, dying on the operating table seemed like a good opportunity to escape from this nightmare, but the decision had been made; I could see it in his face and those of _my_ _team_. Besides, the surgery would be performed by the most experienced doctor available and still my odds would only be fifty-fifty. There was always hope.

The day before the surgery, I had another round of visitors. This time Jacob came with Billy. They chatted about non consequential things on the reservation. Jacob had taken his ACTS and felt confident that he did well on them. He was trying for an academic scholarship from the University of Washington, and I promised to help him study through the coming school year…_if I wasn't dead. _

Sue Clearwater came within minutes of Charlie's arrival and both of them looked flustered. So it was true then. There was a lot of speculation that they were a couple, even though no one could claim to have seen either of them together-together until now. There was a time when I might have teased them with suggestive comments to intensify their discomfort but now I barely noticed. Charlie sat quietly in a chair that he snagged from the curtained room next door. The comatose girl didn't need it anymore. They had wheeled her out the day before, her body discreetly covered by a sheet.

Sue gave me an update on Seth's first days back in school and finally meeting Leah's new boyfriend; a boy from Port Angeles who was not of Indian descent. Her conclusion was that he was too nice and Leah would tire of him quickly. Eventually she ran out of safe subjects that wouldn't remind me of my own hopeless situation and the room was filled with an awkward silence.

I'd closed my eyes as a signal that she could leave. I no longer wanted her presence…I was tired…she shouldn't feel guilty. Besides I wanted to ask Charlie about Bella and he wouldn't speak openly with Sue in the room.

"Edward, I need to ask you a question," Sue said so quietly, I barely heard her.

"Yes," I mumbled.

"Did Carlisle tell you how to contact him in case something like this…something bad happened?"

I would have sighed if the ventilator allowed it. The question wasn't completely unexpected. After Charlie's attempts to fish the information out of me had failed, I fully expected Sue would give it a go especially now that I saw they were together.

"I don't want…Carlisle here," I said with as much conviction as my breathless voice allowed.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed that they left you like they did, I don't care what the reason was, but Edward, now is not the time for holding onto that anger. This is a full blown emergency. Carlisle is a doctor. He can help make the decisions that are in your best interest and I for one would like more information on this _surgery_ by someone that understands what _these_ doctors are talking about. You know they are bringing in a surgeon from out of state to do it. I don't trust that. It sounds like some guy with an ego that wants to add another feather to his cap. If Carlisle were here he would know if it's the right thing to do and I know he would only have your best interests at heart.

I was surprised at how passionately she defended Carlisle. The Quileutes were not exactly friends with the Cullens. It was possible I supposed that Sue didn't know the entire truth about the Cullens or she might only be mimicking Charlie's sentiments without taking into considering what Carlisle really was, but I had a hard time believing that Billy wouldn't have tried to steer her away from involving the Cullens. No one was more happy to see them go then the Quileutes, yet here was Sue asking me to bring Carlisle back.

"I don't mind…being the feather…on some jackass doctor's cap," I said honestly enough. _I don't mind dying either._

"Well I just want you to know that you don't have to go through with this surgery. Not right away. We can delay it; try to find out more about it. I can't bear the thought…." Her voice cracked.

I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was a beautiful woman even if she was old enough to be my mother. It was too bad she had been burdened with me. Carlisle had never given me an explanation as to why Sue had been chosen to be my unofficial guardian; he never gave me a choice, but now it made sense. She actually appeared to care for me. It was a weird feeling, a feeling I had before, a feeling I didn't trust. The rage I felt towards Carlisle was there, just below the surface and I wanted to lash out at someone…something, but Sue didn't need to see that so I beat the anger back. He would have done better to dump me back at the state's doorstep then take advantage of this women's kindness and gentle soul. But it probably made _them_ feel better, alleviated_ their_ guilt, helped Esme get past the idea that she abandon her _adopted_ _son_.

"It's alright…I don't mind. It's really… my only option. And fifty–fifty is better…than nothing," I said calmly.

One look at her face told me that my words had offered her nothing in the way of comfort. I closed my eyes again and heard her sigh. I was not her responsibility and it gave me another reason to hate Carlisle. He had no right to saddle this woman with me.

"I'm going to leave now and let you and Charlie have a moment, but I'll be here when you get out of surgery tomorrow, okay Edward?"

"Sure." I cracked an eye open just in time to see Sue and Charlie share a look. I didn't have to imagine what they were thinking. There was a good possibility that I wouldn't be around tomorrow and we all knew it.

I heard the scraping of a chair as Charlie stood up. He cleared his throat, than silence.

"You haven't told….Bella yet." I said.

"No, Edward. I thought it was better to wait until after the surgery."

"Yeah maybe I'll die…and save you…the trouble."

Charlie sighed.

"It's okay…I understand."

"Once I tell her Edward, everything will change for her…everything." Charlie's voice sounded dejected, almost ashamed.

"No, I get it. No point telling her…I'm paralyzed…if I'm going to die," I didn't blame Charlie one bit. As much as I wanted to see Bella, her well being was my number one concern. Seeing me like this would undoubtedly cause an _episode,_ a setback. It wasn't in her best interest to know what I was going through yet, not until we knew that I would be around for at least a little while longer.

"Edward, if I thought she could handle it, she would be here. I'm not trying to keep her from you." He actually chuckled. "Those days are long gone."

I smiled a little at that. Yeah Charlie had done his best to keep Bella and I apart once he found out we felt _that way_ about each other. I never blamed him. He only had her best interests at heart and as soon as he found out that she was…well…that she had issues, he became extremely protective.

"Has she…asked about me?"

"Yeah and you will be happy to know that she blames me completely for keeping you away."

I frowned. Charlie would be all that Bella had if I died. I didn't like the idea that she blamed him for anything. Those feelings had a way of escalating and turning into paranoia. It was important that Bella trust Charlie completely.

"Don't worry," Charlie said, reading the concern on my face. "It's just a typical father-daughter disagreement. She thinks I'm being an _overprotective nag—_her words not mine. As soon as you're through this surgery I'll tell her then we'll make arrangements to visit."

_And if I'm dead, visiting me won't be part of the conversation._

For the first time since I found myself in the hospital, I felt a rush of panic and fear. I didn't want to die. I had to stay alive for Bella's sake, she needed me; she wouldn't survive without me. The beeping of the heart monitor increased, as I struggled within my motionless body.

"I'll take care of her Edward, don't worry about Bella, she'll be okay." Charlie was giving me permission to die.

He stayed with me until my heart rate returned to normal, ignoring the nurses that asked him to leave. I closed my eyes lost in my own thoughts and regrets, trying not to dwell too much on the upcoming surgery that was now only a few hours away, but unable to reconcile how my life had gotten so fucked up. True, it had never been an easy road, always been a struggle, but there was a time, right around when the Cullens came into my life, that I had hope, when I thought I finally turned the corner and that maybe, just maybe things would get better.

If only seven year old Edward knew what seventeen year old Edward did; that some people are just born under a bad sign. If I survived the surgery I would have to think about that. Maybe being in Bella's life was the worst thing I could do. Maybe Charlie should tell her I died. Maybe I wouldn't have to worry about it…fifty-fifty odds weren't really that good.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

_**I hope this doesn't get confusing. We will be going back to young Edward again for several chapters.**_

_**Reviews would be wonderful. ;o)**_


	6. Minimize the Damage

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: Contains references to child abuse. Read with care.**_

_**We are back to seven year old Edward in this chapter.**_

* * *

"Edward can you hear me?"

He nodded his head automatically, but groaned a little. His head hurt when he moved it. He felt funny…numb…and confused. He didn't recognize the voice and it didn't feel like he was lying on his mattress.

"Can you open your eyes for me, honey?"

"Kay," he said not wanting to move his head again. But when he tried to open his eyes he couldn't or at least not very wide. It was like someone was holding his eyes shut and no matter how much he tried to force them open, they wouldn't budge. But he could see the women looking down at him. She had red hair and a nice smile and she was wearing a pretty shirt with balloons on it. He tried to smile but even his lips felt funny and he wasn't sure if he was smiling or not.

"There you are. I can see those gorgeous green eyes of yours." She smiled wider. "Can you tell me where it hurts, honey?"

He tried to think about that. It didn't hurt that much except for his head and a little in his stomach where Karen had kicked him. His face felt funny but it didn't really hurt.

"My head," he said but it sounded more like _muth heaaa _so then he felt stupid and didn't want to say anything else. He took a deep breath and felt it; pain like a knife in his side and he cried out before he could stop himself and then he started to cry which made the pain in his side worse.

"It's alright sweetheart. Just close your eyes and try not to cry. It won't hurt as much if you don't cry. The doctor will be right in."

He closed his eyes and his head felt a little better and he tried to stop crying because she would know what she was talking about. She was a nurse and he knew he was in the _hospital_ and that was bad…that was very bad; so if he wanted to _minimize the damage_ he knew he had to pretend he was alright so he could go home and George and Karen wouldn't get into trouble.

"So what do we have here?"

Edward jumped a little and gasped causing another sharp stab of pain in his side. The voice sounded familiar but he didn't know why. He was sure he had never heard it before.

"I'm sorry did I scare you…son?"

He shook his head not trusting himself to speak, but then a wave of pain from behind his eyes made him feel sick. He clenched his teeth. He would not cry like a baby…he would not cry like a baby. The man had called him son. It made him almost forgot his sore head and side.

"Try not to move."

He tried not to move; it felt better when he didn't move.

"Why isn't his head immobilized?"

"He wasn't brought in by an ambulance. Someone from the reservation dropped him off."

"Dropped him off? You mean they didn't wait?"

"No Doctor Cullen. The gentlemen carried him in and we brought him right back here. I think he filled out admittance papers, but the admittance nurse said he left. Do you want me to see if he came back?"

"No. Call the sheriff's department and let them deal with it."

Edward wanted to shout out that he fell. He just fell that was all, but he felt kind of funny and wasn't sure if he could get the words out right. While he was thinking about what story he could tell that wouldn't sound like a lie, he felt hands on his face, cold hands, ice cold hands and then he knew why the doctor's voice sounded familiar.

"I'm going to feel your head, son. Tell me when it hurts?"

He didn't really tell the doctor when it hurt but his winces and groans must have given him all the information he needed to know.

"Hmmm, it looks like you have a few bumps and bruises, but nothing that won't heal up just fine. Now let's check your ribs."

This time he was prepared for the doctor's cold hands, but he was not prepared for the pain when the he touched his side, the side where Karen kicked him and he screamed out and burst into tears before he could stop himself.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said quietly in a whisper so soft that Edward could barely hear him. Then louder, "What's his name?"

"Edward Masen, Doctor."

Edward wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the doctor say something under his breath. He tried to listen harder.

"We need to get head and chest x-rays and depending on what they show, we may need to do an MRI. Does anyone know what happened?"

Edward tried to listen to see if anyone was _suspicious_, but there were too many noises, too many people talking and he had a hard time _focusing_. Besides, he was still thinking about the doctor's cold hands and his voice that sounded like maybe he should be on TV.

"Can you open your eyes for me Edward; I need to shine a light in them."

He felt the doctor's hand on his forehead. He opened his eyes obediently and what he saw made him feel instantly better. The doctor was like his princesses. His skin was pale white, his eyes were golden and sparkly and there wasn't a single thing that was scary about him. Not like Jasper. He was even smiling a little.

Edward wanted to speak, ask him if he knew Esme, Rosalie and Alice and even Jasper, but then the doctor was shining a light in his eyes and asking him to look to the right and to the left and he had to _concentrate_ so he wouldn't look stupid.

"Okay good…all done," he finally said.

Edward guessed he did everything right, because the doctor didn't look at him like he was a stupid little kid and smiled again at him which made him feel better. He decided not to mention the others because he didn't want the nice doctor to know that he was the boy that cried like a baby and wet his pants.

"…I don't know they said he came from the _reservation_."

His ears perked up when he heard that word, but he closed his eyes so they would maybe think he was sleeping.

"Well he's definitely not Indian so that really doesn't make any sense," a man's voice said. It was gruff and deep and sounded nothing like the nice doctor's voice.

"Maybe he was just visiting." It was the nurse with the balloons on her shirt.

"He lives there. Not sure of the circumstances, but my wife had the pleasure of meeting him near the reservation and walked him home several weeks ago," the nice doctor said.

His wife? Who was his wife? Was it Esme, or Rosalie or Alice? He wanted to ask but then he remembered he was suppose to be asleep so he didn't say anything.

"The admittance papers have Harry Clearwater listed as the person that dropped him off. I'll go out and find out what's going on," the man with the gruff voice said.

"He told my wife he lives with George and Karen if that helps. I don't have a last name."

Oh, oh…him and his big mouth. Now he would be in _big trouble_ for telling Esme and Rosalie who he lived with.

"What do you think happened?"

Edward didn't hear the doctor's response. He was too busy trying to come up with a reason why he was hurt. A good reason…not one that would raise _suspicions_ or was too _ridiculous_ to happen.

He must have really went to sleep because the next thing he knew he heard the doctor whisper against his ear. "Don't be afraid Edward. No one will hurt you again. I promise."

He wanted to tell the nice doctor that no one had hurt him, that he fell, that he tripped down the stairs but then they were wheeling him away to the x-ray room so he didn't say anything and just thought about how nice people with pale skin and musical voices and cold hands were; even when they were making promises they couldn't keep.

* * *

They let him stay overnight in the hospital which was okay except the nurse kept coming in and waking him up even though he was really really tired. In the morning, a different nurse brought him a real breakfast, but he tried not to appear over eager, because it had been his _experience _that if he really liked something, there was always someone around to take it away.

The doctor with the cold hands and nice voice that was Esme or Rosalie or Alice's husband didn't come back and that made him _anxious_. He tried to think if he did anything wrong, but he couldn't remember the night before that clearly so he couldn't say one way or the other. Maybe the doctor talked to his wife and found out that he was just a lying big baby and didn't want to keep anyone from hurting him because he was bad and deserved it.

He tried not to think about it too much because it made him feel bad and he didn't want anyone to see him cry, especially not the nurses that were nice to him or even the new doctor who was nice but didn't have cold hands or a TV voice.

He kept asking when he was going to leave the hospital so he could prepare himself but every time the door opened and he thought it might be George or Karen coming to pick them up, it never was. He didn't need anyone to tell him that they would be really mad even if it wasn't his fault and he hadn't said anything to anyone just like he was told not to do. No one had even asked him about what happened to him so he couldn't be blamed for saying something _ridiculous_ that no one would believe.

Eventually he relaxed and even watched a little bit of TV that wasn't soap operas or sports, but a show for kids and he must have taken a nap because the next time he opened his eyes a nurse with flowery barrettes in her hair brought him dinner and sat with him while he ate it which made him _self- conscious_ but he thought he did a good job remembering his table manners and even wiped his mouth when he was done.

"When you're done with dinner, you're going to have a visitor…Chief Swan. He'd like to have a little chat with you."

He took a deep breath without thinking and cried out in pain.

"Edward you don't have to be afraid. I know Chief Swan and he's very nice."

"I know he's nice. I know him too. He's Bella's dad, but why is he here?" Edward asked in a shaky voice. "He's suppose to spend the whole day with Bella then he's taking her to the airport so she can go back to Arizona."

He rubbed at the tears in his eyes. He didn't want to talk to Charlie. Talking to a policeman was bad and if George or Karen found out he would get into _big trouble_. But then he thought of something. Maybe Charlie wasn't coming as a policeman, maybe he was bringing Bella with him to visit him and that made him happy because it made a lot of sense; but then he made the mistake of telling the pretty nurse with barrettes in her hair.

"Maybe he's bringing Bella to see me?"

He knew right away that he was wrong because she was looking at him with that look that said he was _deluding_ himself and was just a _dumb kid_ that would believe anything, so then he pushed his food away and pulled the blankets up to his chin and squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the questions from the nice nurse who didn't understand what was wrong.

Finally she left him alone and he had to wait by himself. They told him he would get medicine that would take the pain away and help him sleep, but it was too early to sleep and he doubted they would give it to him before Charlie came to ask him questions or maybe he was coming to take him back to the _reservation_. Charlie was the one that brought Mike to stay with George and Karen, so maybe he was coming to get Edward to bring him home.

He must have slept a little because the next thing he knew he heard Charlie's voice and it took him a while to realize it wasn't just a dream, but when he opened his eyes as much as he could, he saw that Charlie wasn't alone. There was a women with him, the same women that came out to the house to ask questions about the rumors on the _reservation. _He felt a flutter in his belly.

"Hi, Edward, how are you feeling?"'

"Okay," he said cautiously. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine…a little sad. You know what today was, right?"

"You sent Bella away on a big plane to Arizona," Edward replied slowly, hoping he hadn't, hoping Bella would just pop out and surprise him. But Charlie only nodded so then Edward knew that wasn't going to happen.

"I'm always sad to see Bella go. You and Bella became good friends over the summer, didn't you?"

Edward hesitated. He hadn't expected Charlie to ask him about Bella. He wondered how much Charlie knew.

"It's alright Edward. Bella told me you were friends. I'm glad she has a good friend here in Forks. She even asked about coming back at Christmas, which she's never done before," Charlie said kindly. He didn't seem upset that Bella was friends with a _foster_ kid. "Would you like it if Bella came back at Christmas?"

He nodded his head then winced. He had to remember to quit moving it so much.

"Well if she comes, I'll make sure she pays you a visit it…how's that?"

"Okay," he replied pressing back into the pillow to remind himself not to nod when Charlie asked him something.

"Now you probably know that I'm not here to talk to you about Bella." Charlie glanced over his shoulder, like he finally remembered there was someone else in the room with them.

Edward decided not to say anything this time or nod either. He knew what was coming and he was ready.

"Can you tell me how you got hurt?"

"I fell." He was experienced enough to know that he would have to _elaborate_, but he would wait until Charlie asked the question.

"You fell…huh and where did you fall?"

"Down the stairs."

"How did you fall down the stairs?"

"I tripped."

"Did anyone trip you?"

"No."

"Was anyone with you when you fell?"

Edward thought about that. Without George or Karen to tell him what to say he couldn't know what they told Charlie or _social services_. So he decided it was best to keep his _options open_.

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember?" Charlie's eyebrow went up. He was _suspiciou_s.

"There might have been someone else there, but I'm not sure."

"So no one pushed you or tripped you?"

"No."

"Which stairs did you fall down?"

Edward felt his hear race and he winced at the pain in his side. Charlie wanted _details_. That was bad. It was easy to get caught in a lie if there were _details_.

There were three staircases in the house. One that led out the back door, one that led out the front door and one that went into the basement. The basement stairs was the longest and steepest. He decided to stick with the truth, at least the truth about which stairs he _fell_ down.

"The basement stairs."

"So let me see if I got this right. You fell down the basement stairs and as far as you know, no one pushed you or tripped you."

"Yeah…no…I…" another deep breath, another gasp of pain. He touched his hand to his head to make himself concentrate. "I fell down the basement stairs, by myself…I tripped. I don't remember if anyone was around."

"Now Edward, I think we both know that you didn't get all those bruises from just falling down the stairs." Charlie was looking at him with his policemen's face on, but he didn't look mad even though he guessed he was lying.

Edward decided not to say anything and glanced over at the _social services lady_ who was sitting behind Charlie. She had a frown on her face. He couldn't tell if she was _suspicious _or not.

"Did you go out in the woods by yourself before you fell down the stairs?"

That comment brought his attention back to Charlie. How did Charlie know he went out into the woods? The only way he could know is if someone told him.

"Yes, I…I went by the river and fell asleep," he mumbled.

"Did you see anyone else out in the woods or were you by yourself?"

This time he looked up and locked eyes with Charlie. He did see someone else. He saw Jasper and Alice. How could Charlie know that? He couldn't, could he? No one could. But then he remembered the doctor with the cold hands. Maybe he went home and Alice told him about the little boy that was lost in the woods and peed his pants. Maybe the doctor told Charlie and Charlie would believe the doctor more than he would believe Edward or George and Karen for that matter. Still…

"I was by myself." He didn't want to mention seeing Alice and Jasper unless he had to. He didn't want anyone to know that he was a scaredy cat baby that wet his pants.

"Are you sure?"

He started to nod his head, felt a little dizzy and stopped. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'd remember something like that."

"I think you should know that I talked with George and Karen and they said that they found you in the woods by the river and you were already hurt. Did someone in the woods hurt you, Edward?"

Charlie was staring at him so hard, that he couldn't look at him even though he knew that it made him look _guilty_ if he didn't. He thought about Jasper and how he was pretty sure that Jasper wanted to do a lot worse things to him then George or Karen did. He could lie. It was a good lie, a lie that maybe someone would believe…someone like Charlie. All he had to do was tell him that he saw Jasper and Alice in the woods and not _elaborate _about anything else. It's not like Edward would know Jasper any other way unless he saw him in the woods and Jasper was scary. He didn't think a person had to be a little kid to see that. But even if he scared him as bad as he'd ever been scared in his life, Jasper hadn't hurt him, so he didn't think it would be very nice to blame anything on Jasper just so George and Karen wouldn't get into trouble.

"I fell asleep by the river and when I woke up it was really really late, so I walked home and it was dark in the house and I fell down the stairs."

"So you didn't see anyone else in the woods, not before you went to sleep or after you woke up?"

"No."

"Do you know why George and Karen would tell us that story?"

"No…why? He said mystified. But when Charlie smiled he knew he misunderstood the question. He yawned and rubbed his eyes and saw Charlie and the _social services lady_ share a_ look_.

"Are you tired, Edward?" Charlie asked, patting his hand.

Edward nodded, winced and closed his eyes. He wished someone would come in and _immobilize_ him so he couldn't move his head at all.

"The doctor tells me that you should be ready to go home tomorrow."

Edward's eyes flew open and he met Charlie's gaze. He felt a flutter of fear in his stomach and hoped Charlie couldn't see it on his face. Policemen were really good about seeing things like that.

"Do you want to go back to George and Karen's, Edward?"

He swallowed. That was probably the easiest question Charlie asked all night. No he did not want to go back, but he knew that wasn't the answer they were looking for and it was simple enough to lie.

"Okay," he said, but that was wrong. That wasn't what he meant to say at all. He was such a dummy. How hard was it to say _yes_?

"Edward, would you like it if we found you another place to live?" For the first time the _social worker lady_ spoke. She was nice enough. Edward remembered her from other visits to the house, but he knew better than to trust anyone from the _government _and it was his _experience_ that _another _place was not always a _better _place. He decided not to say anything.

"I can't promise that we can find a family for you right away, but you can always come back to the county home for a few weeks until we do. How did you like it there, do you remember?"

Edward studied her for a minute trying to decide if this was a trick question. When he was pretty sure it wasn't he answered her honestly enough. "It was good. There were a lot of kids to play with."

And that was true; there were a lot of kids there. The county home was really just a great big house with a lot of small bedrooms, one for each kid and a _staff_ that looked after them. The _staff _was different in the morning and at night and there were no _foster_ moms or dads. Some of the kids called it an orphanage, but he wasn't an orphan and neither were any of the other kids he met. No, the county home was just fine and no one hit him there. So he couldn't really understand why he was crying.

"Edward, it will only be for a few weeks. We'll find you nice home, hopefully in time for you to start school with the rest of your class," the nice _social worker_ _lady _said.

He nodded, cried out loud in pain this time and closed his eyes again.

"Okay I think we're done. You've done a good job answering our questions, kiddo." Charlie stood up and gave his hand a squeeze. "Don't worry, everything will work out just fine and no matter what family you end up with, I'll make sure that Bella stays in touch."

"Kay," he said, keeping his eyes shut so no more tears could come out.

"Good bye Edward, I'll be here tomorrow to pick you up," the _social worker lady_ said.

Edward didn't respond. He heard her sigh but he didn't care if she was _frustrated_ with him or not. His head hurt because it wasn't immobilized, his side hurt whenever he breathed and now he was going to have to move away from the _reservation_ and all his Indian friends. Worst of all, his army men, his baseball and his books, especially the Harry Potter books were gone. He knew from _experience_ that the county home didn't allow _personal items,_ everything had to be _shared _and he had no way to go get his stuff even if he could find a way to hide it.

"Hello, Chief Swan, I'm glad I caught you, I'd like to talk with you if you have a minute."

Edward didn't open his eyes, but his ears perked up immediately upon hearing the voice by the door of his room.

"Doctor Cullen," Charlie acknowledged. "Edward and I just finished up having a nice chat. It sounds like he will be released from the hospital sometime tomorrow."

"Yes, that's right. That's what I want to talk to you about. We should probably have this conversation in my office."

"This is Edward's social worker, Mrs. Grant. I'm sure she'd like to come if you don't mind?"

"No of course not. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please, come with me."

Edward heard the click of his door and the sound of their voices faded away. When they were gone, he tried to sleep but he was nervous about what the doctor wanted to talk with Charlie about. He thought that it was late enough that the nurse should be by to give him medicine so he could sleep with no pain, but eventually he got tired of waiting for her and fell asleep on his own. He was pretty sure that he hadn't slept very long when someone with ice cold hands was touching his face. His eyes flew open.

"Hi Edward, do you remember me from last night? I'm Doctor Cullen."

He nodded his head and groaned.

"Try not to move your head. It won't hurt as much. I've brought you some pain medicine, but I'm afraid your head is going to hurt for a while. You have a concussion. Do you know what that is?"

Edward almost shook his head no, but then he remembered and stopped himself.

"No."

"It means you bruised your brain. It will hurt for a while and there's not much we can do about it, but in a few days you'll start feeling a lot better, so it's nothing for you to worry about."

"Kay."

"Now as for the pain in your side, that's going to take a little longer. You have a bruised rib. We can't do much for that either, other than let it heal on its own and it's going to be more painful than your head because you have to breathe and every time you do, it's going to hurt."

"Only when I breathe a lot," Edward corrected the doctor. He couldn't imagine why he was so scared of Jasper and wasn't scared of the doctor at all. They looked a lot alike. He thought about asking but then figured it might be rude. People didn't like it when you said things about how they looked unless you were telling them they were pretty or beautiful or handsome or something like that.

"So when you take little short breaths, it doesn't hurt that much, correct?"

"Yeah…I mean no."

"The problem with doing that is it's bad for your lungs. You need to take deeper breaths to keep your lungs from getting sick, but that will hurt more. I'm going to show you some exercises that I want you to do as often as you can. It will hurt, but it will make sure that you don't get sick. Okay?"

Edward frowned at that. It didn't make sense that he should do something that would hurt if he could help it but he supposed the doctor would know more than he did.

The doctor seemed to be waiting for him to answer. "Okay," he finally said and then before he could stop himself he burst out. "Who's your wife?"

The doctor looked startled. "My wife? Did you hear me talking to the policemen last night?"

Edward thought about that. He couldn't remember who the doctor was talking too, just someone with a gruff voice. Was that a policeman? He shrugged.

"My wife is Esme. She said that she met you in the woods by the reservation." He was smiling now.

Edward started to nod, but then he remembered not too. "Yes, Esme and Rosalie. They walked me home."

"Rosalie is my daughter…my adopted daughter."

"They were nice," Edward said smiling a little himself.

"Can I ask you something Edward?" The doctor leaned forward and was talking in a hushed voice, like he didn't want anyone else to hear.

Before Edward could say anything, like no, he didn't want to answer any more questions, the doctor continued.

"Why didn't you tell Charlie that you saw Jasper and Alice last night?"

Edward froze. How did he know that? Charlie must have told him. Did the doctor think he was a bad person for lying? He didn't look like he was mad; in fact he looked almost, well…happy wasn't it but he couldn't think of the right word for what he imagined the doctor was thinking. He decided to tell the truth.

"I didn't want them to get in trouble."

"You didn't want who to get in trouble?"

Edward sighed. "I didn't want Jasper and Alice to get in trouble."

"And why would they get in trouble?"

Edward looked at the doctor skeptically. Did he really not know? "Because George and Karen said someone hurt me in the woods and I didn't want Jasper and Alice to be blamed for something that wasn't true. Even if…"

He hesitated and glanced at the doctor out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't sure that he could trust him. Doctors were like policemen. They did good things but sometimes the good things they did made things worse for the people that they were doing the good thing for.

"Even if what, Edward."

"Even if Jasper is super scary."

The doctor laughed; a real laugh, not a fake laugh like he heard from most adults when they were pretending that something he said was funny.

"You are a pretty smart boy, Edward," he said like he meant it and that made Edward feel funny. Like he might cry even though there was no reason that being told he was smart by a doctor should make him feel that way. He really thought that maybe this doctor understood him better than anyone ever had before, well aside from Bella.

"Can you tell me who _really_ hurt you?"

Then he had to go and ruin it.

"I fell down the stairs," he said sullenly.

"Okay, well from what I understand from Charlie and Mrs. Grant, you won't be going back to George and Karen's. They can't have foster kids in a house where _falling down the stairs_ can lead to the kind of injuries you have."

Edward knew the doctor was being _sarcastic_ and this made him feel bad. He didn't like lying to him, but he couldn't _change his story_ now.

"Charlie told me that tomorrow they wanted to move you back to the county home."

Edward didn't say anything.

"He doesn't think it's a good idea and neither do I."

The doctor looked at him closely and Edward shut his eyes. He felt like he was going to cry again. He didn't understand why he couldn't get his _emotions _under control.

"Edward, Charlie suggested something to me and I think it might be a good idea. I want you to think about it tomorrow when you wake up."

The serious tone in the doctor's smooth voice made Edward open his eyes. The doctor was extremely close to him. So close that he could see how the gold in his eyes fanned out and was black around the edges. He remembered how Jasper eyes had been completely black but then they turned golden just like that. He wondered if it worked the other way too. He didn't like to think of the doctor with black eyes, but it seemed like a _possibility_.

"How would you like to come and live with me and my family for a few weeks until they can find you another foster home?"

Edward felt his eyes widen in surprise. Of all the things he thought the doctor might say to him, asking him to come and stay with him for a little while was not one of them. First no one ever asked him anything. They just told him what to do. He never had a choice. Second, that would mean he could be with his princesses and see them every day which gave him that feeling like when he was around Bella, that happy warm feeling. But then he remembered something.

"Is Jasper going to be there?"

The doctor smiled but he looked sad and Edward was sorry he mentioned it.

"Jasper will be there. He's my son, my adopted son. You don't have to be afraid of him Edward. He won't hurt you, but if you don't feel comfortable with him there, he will leave while you're staying with us…okay?"

"Okay. Edward said, feeling bad that the doctor would make his son leave so Edward would feel _comfortable_. He would have to be sure to not be afraid of Jasper.

"I have some things to work out. We're not even sure if the county will allow it, but we have fostered kids before, in fact all of my children were foster kids before we adopted them, so we think they might make an exception."

The doctor continued talking and Edward closed his eyes again. He was so tired, he could hardly think about going to live with the doctor.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for you to be in a home with a lot of other kids right now. You need to recover and if you're with me I can help you with your breathing exercises. I can't make any promises but before we move forward with this I want to make sure it's something you would want to do."

Edward nodded and winced. He was kind of excited to think he would get to hear the doctor's voice a lot more if he lived with him while he _recovered_. Maybe it would take him a long time to _recover_ and maybe they wouldn't find a _suitable_ _foster_ home for him for a long time, he thought it would be nice to live with the doctor and Esme and Rosalie and Alice, and he tried not to think about Jasper or Emmett who he hadn't even met yet.

He must have fallen asleep again because the next thing he knew, a cold arm was around his back and he tasted an icky cherry flavor in his mouth and realized it was his pain and sleep medicine, but he didn't really want it anymore. He wanted to think about living with the doctor and his family, because as far as he could remember no one ever actually wanted him to live with them before.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

_**I'm sure Carlisle had plenty of opportunity to help children over his decades as a doctor so to justify why he chose to get involved with Edward I had to establish a prior relationship with the Cullens via encounters in the woods around the reservation. **_

_**Thoughts? **_


	7. Napoleon's Army

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

**_So much for short chapters. I see the word count has started to creep up again._**

_**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. I enjoy reading every one of them.**_

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It was nighttime before they finally arrived at the doctor's house which was so big it looked like a bunch of doctors and their families could have lived there. All the lights were on and Edward could see his princesses through the windows waiting for him. He guessed he should probably stop thinking of them as princesses since he was going to live with them for a few weeks until _social services_ found him another _foster_ home.

"Ready Edward?" the doctor asked.

He nodded and sighed. He really didn't feel that ready. He felt nervous, more nervous than he had when he went to George and Karen's for the first time. He wasn't sure why. He supposed he wanted to give a _good impression_, even if he was only going to live with the doctor and his family for a little while.

"There's no reason to be afraid. You've met everyone but Emmett and they are all very excited that you're coming."

"Even Jasper," he blurted out before he decided that was an answer that he didn't want to know.

The doctor chuckled. "Yes even Jasper. I think you'll find Jasper to be completely agreeable and nothing like you remembered him in the woods. Our perspectives of people often change when we are in a different setting."

Edward nodded, unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the fancy car. He had no idea what the doctor was talking about but he could be happy if Jasper didn't have black eyes and look at him like he wanted to eat him.

He took the doctor's hand when he offered it to him and shuddered a little. It was super cold and super hard just like his princesses. He wondered about that. Maybe it was because they were related somehow. Not like brother and sister related but like the Quil…yoots who were Indian and part of a _tribe_. They all had the same color skin and black hair and brown eyes. Maybe the doctor and his family all had white ice cold hard hands and sparkly gold eyes and sing song voices and looked like they should be in movies because they were from a different kind of _tribe_. That made a lot of sense. He glanced up at the doctor who was looking down at him smiling.

He had told Edward to call him Carlisle and over and over Edward ran the name in his mind practicing it so he wouldn't mess it up, but he hadn't felt confident enough to try it yet and still called him doctor or sometimes Doctor Cullen like the nurses at the hospital did.

Esme was waiting for them by the door and she seemed pretty happy to see him, almost like she missed him which was _ridiculous_ considering she didn't really know him, but it made him feel a little better and then he saw Rosalie with a big grin on her face and she looked pretty happy too so that made him almost completely forget that he was nervous.

"Ahh, don't tell me you don't remember me Edward?"

He looked at the beautiful face of Esme as she bent towards him, her hands on her knees. She was one of his princesses all right, but for some reason he felt shy and tried to slide behind the doctor who released his hand as soon as they walked into the house. Rosalie was next to her and a little behind Rosalie was Alice. He didn't see Jasper or the one called Emmett anywhere but that didn't mean they weren't hiding somewhere in the big house ready to jump out at him.

"Maybe we should get Edward something to eat, then we'll give him a tour of the house and show him where is bedroom is," the doctor said.

He wasn't really all that hungry. He had breakfast and lunch at the hospital and even though it was past dinnertime, he didn't think he ever ate so much in one day in all his life. He was tired though and sleeping sounded good even if they didn't have a mattress for him. His bruised rib hurt and his head hurt and he felt a little sick from all the _anxiety _of not knowing where he was going to go once he was released from the hospital.

It was only when it was almost nighttime and Doctor Cullen came into his room not wearing his doctor's coat and not looking like a doctor at all that he was finally told that he could go home with him. But now he was tired and wanted to sleep and he really didn't want to eat but he thought he better do whatever they wanted him to do so they wouldn't get mad at him and make him leave.

He took Esme's hand when she offered it to him and followed her to the brightly lit kitchen. It was the cleanest kitchen he'd ever been in. Esme helped him into a chair at the table and he waited for the others to join him.

"Do you like pasta Edward?" Esme said busying herself by the stove.

He didn't know what pasta was but he nodded his head, winced, then realized she wouldn't see him with her backed turned.

"Yeah that sounds okay."

"We already ate, but we'll stay and keep you company," the doctor said.

He sat at the end of the long table and Alice and Rosalie sat across from each other by him. Esme sat next to Edward and put a big plate of what looked like spaghetti in front of him.

He felt funny having all the grownups watch him eat so he tried to concentrate on his food. He normally didn't worry about things like holding his fork properly or using his napkin not the sleeve of his shirt but he had a feeling that things like that would matter to the doctor and his family so he tried to remember everything he'd ever been taught about table manners which only made his head hurt worse than it already did. At first he tried to scoop the noodles up but when that didn't work he speared them with is fork, chewing slowly and keeping his mouth closed.

"How does it taste?" Esme asked curiously.

Edward was holding his fork half way to his mouth. He nodded, took a shaky breath and put the fork down. He didn't understand why the _adults _were spending so much time with him. He wasn't use to it. To his horror he thought he might cry.

"Does your head hurt son?"

He blinked hard holding his eyes shut for a moment then looked at the doctor. He called him son again. Only the doctor had ever called him that. Not even his real dad had called him son, at least not that he could remember and he never remembered getting that fluttering feeling in his stomach before…that good feeling…that feeling that he belonged somehow. Then he remembered the doctor had asked him a question.

"A little," he replied.

"You're not very hungry are you?"

"Not very much." He didn't want to lie on his first day, even though it might hurt Esme's feeling. He glanced at her cautiously, but she didn't look mad or sad; just a little worried.

"It's been a busy day; maybe we should just let you get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll give you a tour of the house and introduce you to Emmett. Okay?" The doctor with his TV voice and sparkling gold eyes was smiling just a little and Edward thought that it would probably be alright to just go to bed even if it was a little _rude_. He didn't even notice when Esme got up from the table and was pulling his chair back.

"Come on sweetheart, we've got a bed all fixed up for you in my office."

She took his hand and helped him from the chair and he was so tired that he didn't even notice the others had already left the table and somehow Rosalie was in Esme's office standing by a real bed, not just a mattress on the floor.

She held out new pajamas too him and pointed to another door in the room. "There's a bathroom right there so you can go change and brush your teeth. Do you need any help?"

Edward yawned before he could stop himself, shaking his head then wincing. "I'm not a baby."

"Oh goodness what am I thinking," Rosalie said. "I'm afraid you'll have to remind me of that from time to time. We're not use to having little boys around the house."

He shrugged. "It's okay."

When he had finished in the bathroom he came out to find the doctor and Esme still waiting for him. He felt bad about that. They probably had other things to do that were more important than taking care of him, but he knew that's how foster families could be; all worried and _hovering _at first but then they would forget about him later, unless they were yelling at him or hitting him. He wished there was an in-between part, but he supposed that's how it was for all _foster kids_. Kids with real moms and dads probably didn't have that problem though he couldn't remember how it had been with his own parents.

"Here's something for your head, Edward, you can chew it."

The doctor gave him a little orange pill that tasted like orange candy then Esme helped him into bed, even though he didn't need help and she tucked in the blankets on all sides which was kind of nice and cozy.

"Good night Edward. I have to go back to the hospital so I'll see you in the morning and we'll have a nice talk okay?" the doctor said, leaning over and patting his chest.

"Kay," Edward said, not too sure he wanted to have a _talk_ about anything. When adults wanted to _talk _it usually meant they were snooping around for _information_ or were going to give you _bad news_. He didn't much like having _talks._

After the doctor left, Esme dimmed the lights in his room but to his surprise she didn't leave. Instead she pulled up a chair next to his bed and in a move that surprised him she began stroking his hair. Her ice cold hand felt sort of good on his head and even better on his face which was puffy from where George's belt had hit him. Having Esme's hand on him was much better than the ice pack that the nurses at the hospital had used to try to _bring down the swelling_ even though her hand was just as cold and hard. Maybe it was because her fingers could move around the puffiness on his face and over his nose and across his lips and never stayed in one spot too long. The ice pack was bulky and pressed into him and would touch some spots all the time but never got to other spots like right under his nose and above his lip that had a little cut from where the belt buckle cut him.

After a while he closed his eyes trusting that she wouldn't press down on any one spot too hard and hurt him. When she started to hum a song he didn't know he sighed a little thinking he was pretty much the luckiest boy in the world, having a beautiful lady that looked like a princess making his face feel better with her ice cold hands and humming a song like a real mother would when she was trying to get her own little boy to sleep. He forgot for a little while that he was just a _foster kid_ and that he would be sent away once a real _foster_ home was found and just pretended he was _part of the family _and wouldn't be going anywhere for a long long time. Thinking about that took away all the _anxiety_ he was feeling and after that falling asleep wasn't that hard at all.

* * *

"Who are the good guys and who are the bad guys?"

Edward froze. In his hand he held a blue coated soldier and was just about to put it out front behind a rolled up gardening magazine with his other blue coated soldiers. The red coated soldiers were _advancing_, their swords drawn, marching forward, paying no mind to the blue coated soldiers behind the magazine. It didn't look good, not with the blue queen captured and held prisoner in a shoe box prison under the big old desk.

"The blue ones are the good guys," he said slowly.

Jasper had hardly said anything to him since he came to stay with the Cullens and this was the first time he not only asked him a question but sought him out when he was by himself, but this time Edward wasn't afraid. Not even a little, this time Jasper seemed different. The doctor…Carlisle explained it to him. The doctor said that Jasper in a _different setting_ wouldn't be scary at all, but until now he hadn't known what that meant, until now, he'd not been alone with Jasper in a _different setting_.

"Ahhh so the red soldiers have your queen?" Jasper motioned toward the shoe box prison.

He started to nod then caught himself. His bruised brain still hurt. He tried not to move his head too much. "Yup. She went for a walk all by herself without the…the…" he looked at Jasper. He wanted to say horseman but that wasn't right and he didn't want to look stupid. Not after the doctor and Emmett had coached him.

He put down the blue soldier and held up the horse with the blue soldier astride it. "The knight…" He blurted out triumphantly.

"That's right. If she would have stayed behind her knights, she may have been safe."

Edward put the knight down and placed the soldier behind the magazine barricade. He was sort of embarrassed getting caught playing with the chess pieces like they were his green army men, but from the moment he saw them on the chess board he thought they would be perfect substitutes. The pawns…his soldiers had swords, there were horses and even a king and queen. He knew that he wasn't suppose to play with them like they were soldiers and he shouldn't have them scattered all over the floor of the library, but he was bored resting in bed and his head hurt if he read too much and they were just sitting there on the chess board waiting for someone to play with them and since he didn't know how to play chess yet and didn't have anyone to play with if he did, he thought he could play soldiers for awhile until someone noticed him again. He just hadn't thought that someone was going to be Jasper.

It had been almost two weeks since the doctor brought him home from the hospital to live with him and Esme and their adopted children. Edward thought they were all pretty big to be called _children_ but he didn't question it and was really surprised that they were going to start high school in Forks in just a few days. It was probably the best two weeks of his whole entire life except for the time that past summer when he got to play with Bella and he was careful from the very first day not to do anything _stupid_ or act like a _baby_ or do anything wrong that might make them send him away.

The biggest difference…well the two biggest differences between living with the Cullens and living with George and Karen was that he got to eat as much food as he wanted and no one yelled at him or hit him or called him a _weird little kid_. Of course it had only been two weeks. He couldn't remember exactly how long it had been before things got really bad at George and Karen's but he guessed it had been longer than that. Still, it wasn't like he was _part of the family_ either. _Foster kids_ weren't as good as having _real kids_ or even _adopted kids_ but he tried not to let it hurt his feelings when he was treated different then everyone else.

He got to eat as much food as he wanted but he didn't get to eat with any of the Cullens who always ate when he wasn't around which really didn't make much sense because he was around all the time. He guessed that they ate at night when he was sleeping because no matter how many times he woke up at night or how early he got out of bed in the morning, everyone else was always awake.

The eating part bothered him more than it should have. He didn't have to sneak into the kitchen looking for food anymore; Esme always had a big huge plate of food ready for him whenever he wanted; so much food that it would make the doctor laugh and he would feel bad that he couldn't finish it all. But he wished he could be treated like one of the family, instead of an _outsider_ who had to eat separate from everyone else. He wouldn't even have minded if he had to sit at a _kid's table_ or on the stool by the snack bar or even on the floor holding his plate in his lap if he could eat at the same time and in the same room as they did.

As far as not getting yelled at or hit, well Edward wasn't really sure if that had anything to do with his bruised head and rib and the fact that he couldn't really do too much that would make anyone mad or if it was because he was _paying attention_ this time and wasn't going to _break the rules_ if he could help it. Not that there were too many rules, but he tried to _pay attention_ anyway because he had a way of breaking rules even if he didn't know they were rules, like when he started talking when George was watching sports, especially sports that were in the _final minutes_. He learned the hard way that interrupting George when he was watching sports could end with him getting smacked across the head or kicked in the butt if he got too close to where George was sitting.

So he was careful and tried to follow the rules or possible rules whenever he noticed them. The first rule was that they wanted him in bed by eight o clock _sharp_. No one had ever told him directly that this was his _official_ bedtime but the first couple of days he was there, Esme had come into his room at eight o clock to put him to bed and to read a little to him which he liked, but first she had to wait for him to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth and he didn't think she liked waiting because most grownups didn't like to wait for little kids no matter what the_ situation_ was. So he made sure that he did all the things he had to do before eight o clock and then he would crawl into bed and be waiting for Esme to read to him and she didn't have to tell him to do anything.

The second rule was that he couldn't go upstairs. That was another rule that no one said _out loud_, but he guessed they didn't want him upstairs because he never got a tour of the upstairs and that was where all their bedrooms were. He knew a kid in the county home that stayed in a_ foster_ home and could only go into the kitchen and his bedroom and bathroom. The rest of the house was _off limits_ so he figured the upstairs was _off limits_ to him. He might sit on the bottom step reading a book but he made sure to never go any higher than that.

During the first few days he didn't do much but lie in bed and let his ribs and head _recover _and watch TV, usually in his own room but sometimes in the living room between Rosalie and Emmet. When he felt a little better the doctor who kept telling him to call him Carlisle, took him to his library that had a bunch of thick old books on the shelves. None of the books looked like kid's books but Edward didn't say anything about that, since it made sense that there were no kid's books, not even kid's chapter books, if the Cullens didn't have any little kids. When he was asked if he liked to read he told the doctor how he could read chapter books and had read two of the Harry Potter books and almost finished _The Mouse and the Motorcycle _before Bella had to take it back to the library.

"Do you have any Harry Potter books?" he asked thinking that maybe he just couldn't see them in the book shelves that lined every wall of the room. But the doctor had just shook his head, looking very much like he wished he did have those very books and that made Edward feel bad for mentioning it.

But the next day when the doctor came home from the hospital he gave Edward a bag and in that bag was the entire collection of Harry Potter books, including the three he hadn't even read yet. Edward was so excited he almost forgot to thank the doctor then he felt stupid because he knew the books weren't his to keep and he didn't want the doctor to think he was_ ungrateful_ that he was letting him borrow them for the _time being_.

Reading helped pass the time, but it also made his head hurt so sometimes Rosalie would read for him and he would close his eyes and lay in his bed listening to her voice and thinking that if she ever wanted to be an angel she could probably get the job. At eight o clock _sharp_, Esme read _The Chronicles of Narnia_ books which were kind of confusing and probably meant for the _super advanced _reader. He tried to pay attention but her voice made him sleepy and he couldn't listen for more than a few minutes before he would fall asleep and then she would have to start all over the next night.

The one thing the Cullens didn't have a lot of besides kid's books, was toys; not that he minded that much but they didn't have any little kids that lived next door either so he didn't have anyone to play with. He supposed not having toys was because everyone was too old to play with them but it was then that he missed his green army men the most.

The big giant scary but funny Emmett, that he found out later was Rosalie's boyfriend, gave him a baseball and even played catch with him…well as much as they could in the house. Emmett said that Esme would get mad if they broke anything and Edward wasn't allowed to go outside yet, so they really couldn't throw the ball around that much.

Emmett, besides being really big and really funny was exactly like all the others. He had really white skin that glowed in the nighttime when Edward would see him run from the house and into the woods and he had sparkly gold eyes just like his princesses and the doctor and Alice and Jasper who hadn't had black eyes the entire time Edward had been there. He would also do dumb things like make faces behind Rosalie's back and when he did that, he wasn't scary at all. Edward thought that if he could stay longer than just until they found him a_ foster_ home, he and Emmett would probably have been good friends even if Emmett was in high school and looked like he could be Edward's dad.

But Edward kept remembering that he wouldn't be staying very long so he tried not to get _attached;_ not to Esme who read to him or hummed a song for him and stayed with him until he fell asleep every night; or Rosalie who would keep him company when he tried to eat all the food Esme fixed him, even if it was _impossible_ and she never yelled at him for leaving food on his plate which he always did. Not to the doctor who liked to be called Carlisle and had brought him the Harry Potter books to read and played checkers with him when he finally figured out that Edward wasn't smart enough to play chess. Or Alice who brought him more clothes in two days then he ever owned in his life and would hold them up to him one after another so he could see what they looked like without having to try them on, because his rib hurt too much; or Emmett, who made him laugh when he stood on his head with no hands to brace himself or would jump over the second story railing upstairs and land without getting hurt. And even Jasper who just stood around and didn't say much to anyone except maybe Alice, but wasn't as scary now that he wasn't in the dark and didn't have black eyes. No, as much as he thought he'd like living here, he knew that he would be leaving for another _foster _home soon and they would forget about him anyway.

After the first week, when they were still in that _getting to know him_ phase, the doctor told Esme and Rosalie that he didn't need to have someone with him _one hundred percent_ _of the time_, so they started to leave him alone a little more and he spent most of his time reading or watching TV. But when he started feeling better he got bored with just doing that and he wandered into the library to look at the old smelly books on the shelves and that's when he saw the chess set and the soldiers that weren't getting played with. He took them all off the chess board, stacked books together for the castles, dumped the shoes out of the shoe box so he could use it for the prison and was _engaged_ in a big battle with them when Jasper found him.

He stopped playing and waited to see if Jasper was going to make him put all the soldiers back on the chess board again, but when he didn't say anything, Edward resumed playing rearranging the soldiers as they prepared to fight, throwing cautious glances at Jasper who was rummaging through a big high shelf of books, his fingers sliding along the bindings so fast that Edward thought he must only be pretending to look for something since no one could read the titles of the books as fast as that.

Finally he pulled a big book out from the shelf and put it on the desk above the shoebox prison that held the prisoner queen and flipped through it like he knew what he was looking for. Edward tried not to stare but Jasper was right in the middle of his battlefield so if he wanted to keep playing with the soldiers it would be pretty hard to pretend Jasper wasn't there.

"Come here, Edward, let me show you something."

Now pretending he wasn't there wasn't even an _option_ and nothing surprised him more than to hear Jasper say his name. Obediently he stood and walked to the man that only a couple of weeks before had made him pee his pants like a baby. But now that Jasper was in a _different setting_ he wasn't so scary and even if he was, it would be pretty hard for Edward to pretend he didn't hear him since he was right next to him.

But what surprised him more than anything was when Jasper pointed to the book on the desk and when Edward got closer and looked at it, he saw it was a battle scene very similar to the battle that he was having with his chess army men. There were blue coated soldiers and red coated soldiers and they were fighting in a big hilly field that had trees lining both sides.

"If you are going to beat the redcoats you need to trick them into thinking that all your soldiers are on the frontline," Jasper said pointing to the two groups of solders fighting in the middle of the page. "Then, while they are engaged in battle, you call up your reserves, the solders you've left hidden in the tree line, to attack the main force's flank.

Edward had only been looking at the main battle and hadn't noticed the other soldiers hidden in the trees just as Jasper said. When he flipped to the next page, the hidden solders had advanced on both the right and left side of the red soldiers who were only _paying attention_ to the soldiers in front of them. He flipped the page again and now all the blue solders had surrounded the red soldiers who never saw them coming.

"Have you ever heard of Napoleon?"

Edward shook his head, glancing at the page in front of him and back up at Jasper. He was really tall up close. Taller than the doctor but not quite as tall as Emmett.

"Napoleon was a great military strategist, a great leader; he won many battles with fewer men than his enemy because he was smart and knew how to use what he had," Jasper said, closing the book. "I'll put this here on the bottom shelf. There are plenty of pictures of battles that show how he used his soldiers, so if you ever need help rescuing your queen you can look at this book for ideas."

He smiled and Edward smiled back at him, then looked down at his soldiers that were all lined against the wall behind the gardening magazine while the red soldiers were in the middle of the room between him and the queen. He reached down and picked up the blue king that was on a chair that acted as the castle. "Can this be Napoleon?"

Jasper cocked an eyebrow studying the king then nodded. "I think Napoleon always wanted to be a king."

"Where does he go?"

He opened the book again and flipped through it, finally landing on a page that showed a man wearing a short blue coat on a brown rearing horse up on the hill overlooking the battle field.

"Napoleon was never afraid to fight but it's important that he doesn't get captured so I would leave him either on the chair or maybe a little further back behind his soldiers, so they can protect him."

Edward put him on a pile of books behind his blue soldiers.

"And don't tell Carlisle that your red soldiers are the bad guys because the red soldiers are British and so is Carlisle. The blue soldiers and Napoleon were French. _Mortal enemies_."

Edward looked up quickly at Jasper, horrified that he made such a blunder, but when Jasper laughed at him he knew he was being teased so he laughed too. Being teased by Jasper wasn't like being teased by Mike and he was even sorry when Jasper put the book away and left him alone again to play. He sort of liked Jasper now and wasn't really sure why he'd been so scared of him before. Jasper wasn't scary and he even told him how he could get his queen back by _attacking _the red coated soldiers' _flank_ and having Napoleon be his king.

* * *

He should have known that being happy and feeling _comfortable_ about where he was and not having that _anxoius_ feeling that stayed with him most days when he was with George and Karen wouldn't last and it didn't have anything to do with the doctor calling him to his office to do breathing exercises like he did three times a day. It was his least favorite thing about living with the Cullens mainly because he didn't want the doctor to see him cry and sometimes he couldn't help it when he took a really big breath.

But this time after the doctor finished listening to his chest with his _steth-a-scope_ and told him to take a deep breath, as deep as he could and made him do that two more times even though it hurt even more than getting kicked in the ribs by George had, the doctor stopped listening and sat back in his chair leaving Edward sitting on the end of his desk without helping him down.

"So Edward, I have something I need to ask you."

Edward felt his stomach do a flip flop and he tried to think back to anything he might have done wrong that day that would have the doctor looking at him so sternly. He frowned, then his eyes widened and he remembered that after he played with his chess soldiers and _defeated_ the red coated army men, saving his queen for Napoleon, he had taken one of the knights back to his room. He thought of taking more so he could set them around his bed like he had with his green army men that he kept under the mattress, but then he thought it would be _obvious _if more than once piece was missing.

At the time he had slid the bishop over a little and a pawn back a little hoping no one would notice the missing knight but he guess that a missing horse would be hard to hide. He felt his lip tremble and touched his fingers to it to make it stop. In the old days he might have lied. It was easy to lie when there was other kids in the house, kids that could be blamed for something he did. But there were no other kids that lived in this house and he didn't think anyone else could be blamed for stealing the chess pieces. Besides, Jasper had seen him playing with them so who else was to blame if one of them was missing.

"I took it." He blurted out before he could stop himself. It was right to tell the truth and if he told the truth he wouldn't get in as much trouble or at least that's what Karen always said, though that had never been his _experience_. His chin had dropped to his chest but he looked up from under his bangs at the doctor who was stroking his chin with his finger like he was thinking about something.

"You took what?" the doctor asked, in a distracted voice like he didn't know what Edward was talking about.

But Edward knew that trick. He knew that adults pretended that they didn't understand to make him say things _out loud_.

"I took the horse," he mumbled.

"The horse?"

Edward nodded. He really was a bad kid. All he had to do is be good for a few weeks and he couldn't even do that. Now they would make him go and stay in the county home.

"I'm sorry, son, what horse are you talking about."

Oh yeah, it wasn't called a horse…stupid…stupid.

"I took the knight."

He glanced at the doctor who looked completely confused, then he understood that he admitted stealing and the doctor didn't even know anything about it. He sighed and stuck his hand in his pocket, pulling the heavy chess piece from his jeans. He held it out tentatively.

The doctor smiled and shook his head. "Oh that's alright, you can play with it. Jasper told me that you and he discussed military strategy today. Did you finally rescue your queen?"

Edward nodded and put the knight on the desk. He was happy he wasn't in trouble for stealing the horse but that meant he was in trouble for something else. Either way it wasn't good.

"I guess we don't have too many things for you to do here. Maybe Alice can pick up some toys for you to play with…or better yet, maybe Emmett can. I have a feeling he would come up with some good ideas. Do you like playing video games?"

Edward shrugged. Emmett had shown him how to play a little but he never had video games before and he didn't understand the buttons, plus the lights and beeping made his head hurt and he wasn't very good so he didn't like it when Emmett watched him.

"Edward, I know this is hard for you and that's one reason I want to ask you something and I need you to really think about it before you give me an answer okay?"

The doctor had leaned forward in his chair and his smile was gone. Edward was glad his bangs were long so he could study the doctor's face without being noticed.

"Umm okay."

"I had a long talk with social services about you, then I talked to Esme and the rest of the family and we all agreed that rather than go to a different foster home, maybe you would like to just stay here with us for awhile."

Edward stopped looking at the doctor from beneath his bangs and openly gaped at him. He wasn't sure he heard him correctly and he didn't want to say anything stupid that might make it seem like he couldn't listen properly.

"Everything has already been taken care of as far as the paperwork is concerned, but that doesn't mean you have to stay with us if you don't want too. Living here is going to be a little different from most homes you've been in. We don't have any other little kids and we won't be getting any. We're also well out of town, so you won't have any friends to play with every day except when you're at school."

Edward was only half listening. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that someone like this doctor and his family would want him to live with them. He almost thought he was dreaming, but the doctor was talking again so he tried to listen.

"There are some other things you should think about too Edward. My family, we're different. We don't eat like other people or sleep like other people or even look like other people and because of that I'm worried that it might make you uncomfortable to be around us after a time."

"I wish I could be like you." Edward blurted out then clamped his mouth shut knowing how stupid that sounded, but the doctor only smiled a little. Edward couldn't be sure but he thought he looked a little sad. Maybe because he knew that no matter what Edward did, he would never grow up to be like _them_. He wasn't smart enough and since he wasn't really _their kid_ or from _their tribe_ he would never have super white perfect skin and sparkly gold eyes or be handsome like the doctor, Jasper and Emmett.

"Well I think we like you just the way you are. That's one reason we want you to live with us Edward; because you're special."

Edward knew that the doctor was just saying that to be nice. It was his way of saying he could never be like them, but he didn't care. He probably never felt as good as he did right at that moment, not even when he was with Bella. Still he thought he probably should correct the doctor. He didn't want the doctor to think he was a normal kid from a normal family because that wasn't true. He was a _foster kid_ and everyone knew _foster kids_ weren't anything special and probably not very smart and they never grew up to be doctors. Plus he was weird. Everybody knew that. Even his friends on the _reservation_ said that and they wouldn't say it if it wasn't true.

He found himself shaking his head no as he thought about telling the doctor all of that so he would know that he was getting _damaged goods_, because Edward was pretty sure that this family could have any little kid they wanted and Edward didn't want them to make a mistake.

But then the doctor was standing by him so fast that Edward didn't even remember him getting up and he was lifting him up from the desk and giving him a big hug which surprised Edward almost as much as when he told him that he could stay with them as their _foster kid_.

"Now don't tell me you're not special Edward or I might get mad and when I get mad, I can be even scarier than Jasper."

Then he made a funny growling noise that sounded like a wild animal and could have been scary, but coming from the doctor, it was more _ridiculous_ than scary and Edward giggled. The idea of the doctor being scary was pretty funny since he was about the unscariest adult he ever met.

"What? You don't think I can be scary?" He growled again, louder and if that sound had been coming from Jasper, Edward thought he might be super scared, but when the doctor did it, it only made him laugh.

"Nope," And to prove it Edward gave the doctor a little hug back, thinking he smelled a lot like Esme, Rosalie and Alice did. They all smelled like dessert.

"So does this mean you wouldn't mind staying with us for a little while." He pulled away a little and looked Edward in the eyes. "Because if it does, maybe you should go and tell Esme. I think she'd be very excited to hear that you would. I think she's waiting for you in your room."

"Okay…oh it's almost 8:00. I'll tell her right now," he said, not liking the idea of keeping Esme waiting.

Without another word the doctor put him down and even though Edward wasn't a baby and didn't need to be held, he was sort of sorry to let go of the doctor's neck.

"I just want you to know, Edward, that you've made us all happy…very happy that you're going to stay with us," the doctor said squeezing his shoulders before he let him go. "Especially Esme and Rosalie. They've both always wanted a little boy and now they have you."

Edward didn't know what to say to that so he just nodded and turned to leave the room so the doctor wouldn't see his face. It was too late to blame the breathing exercises for his tears now. Normally he would think that the doctor was being _sarcastic_, because he couldn't understand what he had done to make anyone happy. He was just a _weird little kid_, that talked _shit_ and acted like a_ baby_ most of the time and there were a lot smarter kids out there that would make a better _foster kid_ then him, but he decided he wasn't going to say anything about that _out loud_. He didn't want the doctor or Esme to change their mind and he would do whatever he could to show them that they hadn't made a mistake, even if it meant pretending he was _special_. He just had to _pay attention_ so he could figure out what it was that they thought was so special about him and he would have to be careful not to make any mistakes.

"Don't forget your horse," the doctor called after him, but before Edward could come back for it the doctor was at the door of his office holding it out to him.

"It's not a horse it's a knight." Edward corrected, smiling so the doctor would know he wasn't being a _smarty pants_.

* * *

_**A******__u_thor Notes:

_**The idea for this story came to me because I always wanted to see Esme and Carlisle with a child and though I know it's been done countless times as humans, I liked the challenge of leaving them as vampires. Carlisle's decision to welcome Edward into their vampire world is somewhat irresponsible given that even a seven year old is going to notice their eating and sleeping habits which is why I'm going to let him explain himself in the next chapter. ;o)**_

_**I'd love to hear from you all.**_


	8. Welcome Home

**_DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended._**

**_No warnings this chapter. ;o)_**

**_OMG - talk about having major writer's block. I have more chapter sevens saved to my harddrive then I have chapters in this story and I love writing Carlisle so have no idea what the heck my problem was. _**

* * *

_Carlisle's POV_

His eyes were always on me, following my every move. He watched me closely, absorbing everything I did, looking for my tics and twitches and habitual unconscious movements that defined my humanity or what was left of it. He was an observant one, this green eyed child and when I fell under his scrutiny I was compelled to reexamine my mannerisms, self consciously containing the supernatural flow of my movements, lest I give something away.

When I warned the family to be cognizant of their actions around him, Esme said I was paranoid, the boys snorted in laughter, Rosalie rolled her eyes and Alice…Alice only smiled. She felt it too. The boy had a gift, a special talent for reading people, deciphering thoughts and adapting his behavior to his surroundings. He was protecting himself in the only way that he knew how and it had nothing to do with us not being human, though his observant nature could be dangerous. He would notice things that others might not.

He recognized me as the authority figure in the house and constantly tried to please me, anticipate my expectations of him and contemplate how he could remain inconspicuous in my presence. He was almost obsessive in his need to remain attentive and on guard at all times, no doubt a symptom of his time in the foster care system and the abuse suffered at the hands of his caregivers. His reserved demeanor created an odd melancholy in me because without acknowledging it to my family, I desperately wanted to parent the child

It was a spontaneous decision to bring him home when his social worker suggested it to me and one I wouldn't have agreed to if I wasn't already familiar with the child through the startling accounts of my wife and daughters' encounters with him. The temporary living arrangement was bad enough but not something I could realistically argue against because it made sense. I could treat the boy for his injuries and provide him a temporary living arrangement, but that was where it should have ended.

I could have blamed Esme and Rosalie. They were not inclined to give the child back once a foster home was found for him, despite my repeated insistent that we couldn't keep him. But I found that with each passing day spent in his company, my fondness for him grew and after a few short weeks I didn't bother to refute the affection I felt for him. So yielding to the pleas of my family, I made the call to his social worker to suggest a more permanent solution.

His inclusion into our family was unanimously accepted by all of us. Having a human scent so concentrated in the confines of our home, our sanctity away from human interaction was a heavy burden for the entire family to bear. For me, it was inconsequential; I was use to it and barely gave the scent a second thought, but on the other end of the spectrum was Jasper who had always struggled with the thirst, continued to struggle with the thirst and had almost allowed it to take hold of him on that fateful night in the woods. Everyone else had varying degrees of tolerance for it, but no one complained or offered a compelling argument, why we should not involve ourselves in this boy's life any more than we already had.

From Esme and Rosalie's first encounter with the boy they insisted he was special and their attachment to him had been startling given the insignificant amount of time they spent with him. Despite my assertion that they leave the child to his fate, they had repeatedly gone back to the area near the reservation and kept a watchful eye on the boy after he returned to the woods night after night, undoubtedly searching for the strange pale women that his human instincts should have warned him to avoid. It was heartbreaking for Esme to remain indifferent to his suffering when it was so completely obvious to her that the child was without supervision or a loving home. But humans and vampires didn't mix and though the subject of the child's welfare was hotly debated around our large dining room table, ultimately I had to resort to exerting the influence of a title I seldom coveted, insisting that the child was offlimits and our interference would only put us in danger, especially since the boy resided on the Quileute reservation.

For the first time in all the years of our marriage I felt my wife's disillusionment with my decision and her disenchantment with my neutral attitude left me struggling to understand her reaction to this child, a victim without question, but not something unique in our experience; over the years we'd been exposed to infinite human suffering. But it wasn't just her consternation that I had to bear; Rosalie was unrepentant in her feelings for the human child and much more verbal, lambasting me over my unyielding opinion that we leave the boy alone.

Esme and Rosalie's attitude was not completely surprising. Both had maternal tendencies, to some degree; certainly Esme who had for a brief time experienced motherhood, the death of her child tragically bringing on her own untimely end. Rosalie though not known for her nurturing qualities, had completely abandon her antagonistic attitude when it came to the boy and her behavior was particularly startling given that it transcended the bitterness, anger and contempt she had for our attempts to masquerade as human beings.

But I had a responsibility to protect my family and I would not be swayed by their pleas to involve ourselves further in this boy's life. It wasn't until Alice imparted her vision of Jasper playing catch with a much older bronze haired, green eyed boy that she insisted was crystal clear and likely to happen that I had to reconsidered my steadfast opinion that the child's fate had no bearing on us.

I would never know for sure if that vision was the result of a calculated plan set in motion by Esme and Rosalie to rescue the boy or if it was just me holding out on a decision that was a foregone conclusion. I didn't ask Alice, I didn't want to know, because it didn't matter anymore.

We took Edward in and four months later he was still with us, still healing, still learning to be a child again. But the unexpected consequence of his intrusion into our lives might have been what he did for us, how he changed our lives, how it wasn't so much about him needing us anymore as much as we needed him. It was astounding really. I thought I understood everything about our species and how it was possible to exist and thrive through the decades as long as we adapted to the changes that occurred with the passage of time and never shut the door on the ability to take something away from each year, each decade, each century by stubbornly hanging onto the past.

It could be an unbearable lonely existence; the days excruciatingly slow, the years filled with emptiness, everything we clung to that might be familiar disappearing with the passing years. The humans involved in lives that we could no longer relate too, the change of fashions, the technological advancement the moral progression and still time was there ticking away. I barely managed to hang onto my sanity during the centuries that I spent alone and many more vampires would lose all the humanity they ever possessed, turning into nothing more than feral animals. But after finding my mate and adding additional members to my family, I came to the realization that an eternal life should be embraced and recognized for the gift it was.

And so I was satisfied with the life, I carved out for myself, but I didn't know the meaning of the word. Not until now. It was his humanity that drew us in. Deep down we all wanted it, desired it; a mortal life. He was the closest we would come to one and so we sucked in his essence daily, holding vigil over the fragile being, nurturing him like he was a delicate flower and slowly, very slowly he began to respond to us, validating that we still held onto some part of our humanity, that our attempts to replicate human beings wasn't a complete sham afterall.

* * *

I flipped through the pages of a rather tiresome book suggested by the hospital administer absent mindedly, having read through it once already. The small hospital I'd only been employed at for ten months had approached me about adding some administrative duties on top of my responsibilities as a medical doctor. I was considering it. Port Angeles wasn't a hotbed for medical emergencies in the late evening and early morning hours of my shift and given my startling skills as a physician noted by my colleagues, I could sense their desire to keep me occupied and challenged in the small hospital so I wouldn't abandon them for greener pastures.

I couldn't very well tell them that they had me for as long as ten years provided everything went according to plan and we weren't force to move because of some unforeseen accident or inadvertent exposure to a curious human. I had already implied that I would accept additional duties provided I could remain on the evening rotation, something I blamed on my wife's work schedule and a desire to be home with my adopted teenage children during the day…my teenage children and one elementary school foster son.

Pausing, my eyes flickered up to the boy too quickly for him to notice. He was sitting across from me looking lost in the big leather recliner, his lap cradling one of Jasper's American history books, that undoubtedly was above his reading level, but finding the illustrations enthralling. His fascination with the subject had created an immediate and unexpected bond between him and Jasper, surprising given their shaky beginnings.

But Edward wasn't even pretending to read the book now. I saw with each turn of the page I made, he would imitate it and as I stopped and read something of interest, he would lean over his own book and appear to study it intently, resuming turning the page a moment after I did. I touched my chin thoughtfully and felt my lips twitch in a smile when I saw him do the same; discreetly he was studying me just as I studied him. I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed and was rewarded seconds later with a similar action by him and a little expulsion of air. His hair had a mind of its own and despite Esme and Rosalie's best efforts to tame it; it usually stuck out in several places. Now it was almost standing straight on end; he definitely needed a haircut.

I turned the page. He turned the page.

I tapped my brow. He tapped his brow.

I coughed. He coughed.

I cocked my head hearing the sounds of Rosalie's BMW purring down the road several miles from our house. Edward cocked his head, listening but for what he didn't know.

I looked at him. He stared back, his green eyes probing mine. Sometimes I felt this child could see through to my soul.

"The kids will be home soon." I referred to them as kids for Edward's benefit; he didn't completely buy that they were my adopted children. Amazing how a seven year's insight could put me on edge.

Edward nodded and pointed to the clock on my desk. "It's almost five o clock."

"Are you feeling better?"

"Much better," he said enthusiastically, but when he nodded his head, he grimaced. "But my head still hurts a little."

I frowned in concern. It was the appropriate response to his revelation and one that he would expect. "We'll have to give you another pill for the pain in an hour or two."

"Okay, well I think I can wait until bedtime."

I nodded gravely. "Yes that would probably be best but you let me know if the pain gets too bad."

"I will." He closed the book and slid from the chair. "I'm going to go wait for Alice on the porch."

"Okay, but don't exert yourself, you know you should be resting."

"Will I be exerting myself if I try on the clothes she bought me?"

I suppressed a smile both at his comment and Esme's soft titter from the garden. "I think that depends on how many clothes she bought you."

"Probably a lot," he said solemnly.

He was the latest victim of Alice's exorbitant shopping habits and had suffered through several of her wardrobe makeovers over the last few months.

"Well than you have a good excuse. Just tell Alice that I said you can't try on too many clothes because you need to rest."

"Carlisle, really." Esme said too softly for Edward to hear, the laughter clearly in her voice.

"I'll tell her," Edward replied in all seriousness and headed off to wait on the porch.

Within moments my wife was at my side, her forehead furrowed in a frown, but her eyes danced with amusement.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said wrapping her arms around my neck. "Giving him permission to lie."

"Ahh, but in his mind he's not lying, he's telling the complete truth." I meant to sound lighthearted, but I felt Esme stiffen against me.

"That's the seventh day of school he's missed with this _illness_. How long are we going to put up with it?" She sat down in the chair vacated by Edward and raked her fingers through her beautiful mane of hair.

"It's just a symptom sweetheart. He'll eventually stop complaining about his head, but it's going to take time."

There was nothing wrong with Edward. His headaches were his means of avoiding certain situations that he found unpleasant and I pandered to it on the advice of my colleague, a pediatrician at the hospital. It also gave Edward an inlet for communicating with me. He saw me as the doctor and he as my patient, so he felt comfortable opening himself up to me in that capacity much more so than in the role of father figure and foster son. It was a lonely relationship. I wanted to be much more to him but for now, what we had was all I could expect.

"What happens if he really does get sick? We'll just think he's fabricating it and it will go untreated. That would be horrible."

I smiled at my wife. Her worries over our human charge though not unfounded when compared to the indestructibility of her immortal vampire children, did go beyond what could be expected for a first time parent and she retained little of her own human memories so she had nothing to guide her.

"Trust me, darling. I will know if the boy is truly sick. I do have some experience in treating sick humans, believe it or not." I smirked and ducked as magazine she was holding sailed over my head.

"Now I see where Rosalie gets it from. I'm just glad she isn't here right now. You aren't setting the best example for her, sweetheart."

"Humph. I learned that from her," Esme said hotly, her eyes twinkling. "I'm off to start dinner, is there anything specific you want to eat tonight?"

"Deer, bear, mountain lion...any of those sound good,"

"How about chicken?"

I chuckled; she giggled and after retrieving her magazine and thumping me on the head with it, she went to start preparations for the meal that would have only one dinner guest.

* * *

"Edward why don't you come upstairs and try the clothes on in my room? I'll return whatever you don't like."

"You pick for me."

"Is Emmett telling you to say that?"

"No, Emmett's outside."

"Well then come up here. I won't bite."

"I'm not allowed too."

"You're not allowed to? What do you mean?"

"I'm not allowed to go upstairs; only Esme's office, the library, the kitchen and the living room."

"Who told you that, sweetheart?"

"No one told me, I just know."

I'd been half listening to the conversation between Alice and Edward since the girls arrived home from their shopping trip, but upon hearing Edward's comments I was out of my office and down the hall nearly colliding with Esme as she came in from her flower beds, quickly removing her soiled gloves.

She had heard the same conversation as I, her perplexed expression mirroring my own. We found Edward at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor. Alice had come from her room and was about to descend the stairs herself when she saw us and instead sat down on the top step.

When Edward saw us converge on him, he cringed and touched his head. An automatic response to a stressful situation and I immediately fell into the role of doctor as he anticipated I would which made him feel safe and kept our relationship strictly professional.

"Does your head hurt son," I recited automatically.

He nodded, then winced for emphasis.

I'll get you a pill for the pain in a minute," I said squatting down and doing a preliminary exam of his head which just involved running my fingers through his hair to comfort him. I had a bottle full of placebos, chewable candy. One or two of those and the pain would magically disappear within an hour.

"Who told you, you can't go upstairs, sweetie," Esme sat on the floor next to me cross legged and held out her hands for Edward who after hesitating only a moment crawled into her lap.

We kept the house cool to disguise our body temperature from our human charge and he only shuddered a little when Esme's arms encircled him. I was cognizant of the pained expression that crossed her face, but she didn't let it distract her.

"It's alright you can tell us; you won't get into trouble and neither will whoever told you that." I said, lightly.

"I…umm…no one told me, but I know there are some rooms foster kids can go in and some rooms they can't," he muttered.

"Well not in this house. In this house you can go in any room you want because you're as much a part of this family as anyone else." Esme cast me a warning glance as if I would dispute her on _that_ topic in front of the boy and kissed the top of his head. "The only time you can't go in someone's room is if they have the door closed and then all you have to do is knock first to make sure it's alright, does that sound fair?"

Edward nodded and sighed. I saw his fingers clench Esme's arm. If she'd been human it might have been painful and he was undoubtedly bewildered by his inability to manipulate the flesh at all. Not something I needed to concern myself with now, but in a few years…

"Can I go on the roof?" Edward suddenly asked brightly, pulling back from her embrace so he could see Esme's face.

"The roof? Why on earth would you want to go on the roof?" Esme said bewildered.

"Emmett goes on the roof. How does he get up there? Does he climb out the window? Can I climb out the window too?"

My mate cast me a contemptuous glance that suggested I have a chat with Emmett, but smiled lovingly at the child in her arms. "When I said you can go anywhere, I meant anywhere safe; there will be no going out on the roof or climbing out of windows for you, young man."

Her attempts to scold were met by an innocent grin from the boy in her arms, who abruptly jumped up completely forgetting about his headache. His attention turned to Alice who still sat at the top of the stairs.

"Alice did you buy me a jersey?"

"I did. Do you want to come up and try it on? It might be too big."

"Okay. But it won't be too big." He responded seriously and started slowly up the stairs.

"Dinner will be ready in an hour, sweetie. You like chicken, right?" Esme's fingers closed around my hand and we both stood watching Edward's face crumple. He hated meal times, hated eating alone. It was when he understood just how different he was from us.

"Chicken's okay, but I'm not very hungry. My head hurts." He had reached the top of the stairs, but his enthusiasm was gone, the jersey forgotten.

"Ahh looks like more for me then; I like chicken," I said quickly, feeling Esme's body quiver as she squelched a giggle.

"You do?" Edward looked back at me wide eyed. "Will you eat with me?"

"Of course I will son; you and me, the only chicken lovers in the joint."

He nodded satisfied; his good humor restored and grasped Alice's hand as they disappeared down the hall.

"Chicken, love, really? Well if I knew I was going to be satisfying your refined tastes I would have found a more complicated recipe." My wife purred against me burying her face in my shirt as the laughter she was suppressing escaped from her lips in a gentle tinkle.

"Taking one for the team, my darling which we may all have to start doing. Our dining habits are really becoming a problem." I kissed her forehead, then as an afterthought sniffed at the air around her. "Is it inappropriate to mention that you smell like chicken and I don't find it very appealing at all?"

"Oh you," she said smacking me on the rear, another spurt of laughter and she was out of my arms and in the kitchen, abruptly opening the stove, sending a spiral of steam and odor through the entire house. I shuddered. I was getting as bad as Emmett.

I followed her into the kitchen and sat at the small kitchen table we had never used before our lives were taken over by one small human child.

"What was that all about Carlisle?" Esme's demeanor had changed to one of worried mother.

"It's hard to say. It could have been a rule in his other foster home or an interpretation of something one of us said, anything might have made him assume there were only certain places in the house he could go and I'm just sorry it took this long for us to notice it. Because now, come to think of it, I've never seen him upstairs and I never gave it a second thought. It's not like we use those rooms for anything except well…" I smiled and winked.

"Carlisle," Esme scolded but the sash of her hips, indicated she was willing. "After dinner and only if you don't taste like chicken."

"Hmmm. Maybe I can get Emmett to sit in for me."

'Absolutely not. You made a commitment to Edward and you're going to disappoint him."

I knew she was serious. The child came first. My wife had evolved into the mother she was always meant to be, a glorious maternal being that I could only marvel at. Her transformation into the role had been effortless yet the changes in her were profound. Though she doted on her adopted vampire children as if they sprung from her own loins, mothering them as much as they would indulge her, they truly were quite capable of taking care of themselves and more than that, they were, for all intents and purposes, indestructible.

With this delicate human child all her instincts, the long buried human ones, manifested themselves in a way that made the women before me almost unrecognizable to me and it excited me beyond measure. To change and transform in the way she had was unthinkable amongst our kind, except in the most extreme of circumstances which almost exclusively involved taking a mate. But we'd been mated for nearly ninety years and though everything about her brought me immeasurable joy and contentment, her metamorphous into this motherly creature, driven to protect this child who truly needed her, had roused in me a long buried yearning to grow and evolve with her.

Still I had concerns and it had nothing to do with the occasional symptoms of Edward's abuse. He was a good boy, a bright boy and I had no doubt that in a nurturing home, he could overcome most of the trauma from his tenuous first years of life and recover from the physical and emotion abuse that was such a huge part of his past. We were vampires. Our humanity only extended so far. A child, especially and observant smart inquisitive child, would notice the differences over time and question them. Worse still he might confide in an outsider without ever realizing the danger he was putting us in.

Alice's visions into his future only extended so far. She saw the young child as he was now, an older child interacting happily with his vampire brothers and what she suspected was a teenage Edward, those visions less defined, the content undecipherable, but nothing more. It was logical that I might feel some foreboding, but Alice could be relied upon to translate what she saw accurately, recognizing that she and she alone had a gift that could protect us well into the future and her bright demeanor and positive forecasts were hard to dispute.

Never mind that Alice's visions were susceptible to the decisions made by the players within them; never mind that we were a house full of vampires and that Jasper had almost attacked that very child; never mind that we had never really been foster parents, the forged documents part of the charade we played as we moved from one city to the next. None of that mattered when I suggested to my wife and daughter that taking custody of this child was a monumental risk to our existence and his.

Esme's calls to dinner interrupted my thoughts and were greeted with the running of footsteps from our young charge and snickers from Jasper and Emmett who were engaged in a wrestling match somewhere in the surrounding woods.

"Do you like my jersey," Edward asked entering the kitchen holding his arms out and spinning around.

The garment hung to his knees and was obviously several sizes too big which surprised me. Alice never made mistakes when picking out appropriate sizes for our family members and her skills carried over to the human child as well.

"It's too big, but they were out of his size and I did promise," Alice said apologetically following him into the kitchen with a frown on her face. "Edward I've ordered the correct size, are you sure you want to keep that one too. It's so long, you might trip over it."

"No, it's perfect, I want to keep this one," Edward ventured a glance at Esme and I, looking for any sign that we might disagree with him. One word from either of us and he would shed the jersey and retreat to his room.

"It's perfect sweetie and you need it for the game this weekend." Esme, as usual said the right thing.

Edward grinned and nodded climbing onto his chair next to me.

The Seattle Seahawk games had become a non threatening form of bonding for the boys and Edward, but initially it had been a source of strife. When the games came on and Jasper and Emmett settled down to watch, Edward would notably disappear even after repeated attempts were made by them to involve him.

Finally he admitted that he didn't want to disturb them or interrupt the _final minutes_ of the game. When I questioned him on it further, he conceded that he didn't watch sports because George didn't like kids around when he watched the game so he didn't think Emmett and Jasper would either. It took much cajoling on their part to convince him that he was welcome into their Sunday afternoon brotherhood and the jersey was a symbol of their acceptance so his attachment to the article of clothing wasn't completely unexpected.

"Why don't you call the boys in so they can see your jersey too," I secretly hoped I could entice Emmett to sit in on chicken duty but Esme's warning glare quickly ended that plan.

"We're on your way," Emmett's deep voice barked from the trees, loud enough for Edward to hear.

It was times like this that I was thankful that Edward was only seven years old. Our idiosyncrasies and enhanced abilities as vampires wouldn't go unnoticed by the boy for long if we didn't work on improving our human facade even in our own house, but so far I'd felt no resentment from the family. We all adored the child.

Edward barely had time to settle himself into his chair, when the boys burst into the kitchen via the unconventional entrance from a tree through the sliding window. Their boisterous roughhousing didn't end as they entered the kitchen and they moved around each other in a blur. For Edward's part, he was looking at me, agitated over the warning look on my face, wondering if it was directed at him.

A loud snarl filled the room and immediately the boys stopped their juvenile antics and looked around frantically for the danger that Esme's growl eluded too. I was too stunned to respond having seen the target of my wife's aggressive reaction and the look of horror on her face as she looked at each of us covering her mouth with her hand.

She was snarling at Jasper and Emmett, who looked rather sheepishly at each other than at her. Edward started to giggle, cupping a hand over his own mouth, assuming it was some kind of game.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry. I don't know what that was about," she whispered, turning back to the stove, the ghastly smell of cooked chicken filling the room as she pulled it from the oven.

"Ahh, how easily we are replaced," Emmett gaffed. "Edward, I think you're Esme's favorite now."

"I'm not," but Edward looked very pleased by the idea and giggled again.

I, on the other hand was still shocked by my wife's warning growl directed at her rambunctious sons. She was trying to protect Edward from a perceived danger that the boys' unruly behavior presented and reacted instinctively to the threat. Incredible.

"Not a word," she said without looking at me placing a plate with an exceptionally large piece of chicken and pile of smashed potatoes in front of me and another in front of Edward.

My fascination over her reaction almost made me forget the human food that I forced down in tiny bites ignoring the inquires about the taste and encouragement to try a second helping from Emmett and Jasper and trying to look like I enjoyed it as my gaze caught Edward's time and again. He ate slowly, absorbed in watching me and my reaction to the food. We did not attempt to mimic a human's eating habits often and I could tell he was captivated. Even now he knew there was something different about us and this worried me. It almost made me forget that Esme had been willing to attack her vampire sons to protect her human charge.

* * *

Night time was the hardest for him.

If was hard for us too.

With me gone at the hospital six out of seven nights of the week and the family forced to hunt, including the extended trips to areas where the wildlife was more prevalent; we were forced to juggle our routine to care for the child who couldn't be left alone and subsisted on a routine sleep schedule that was all too often plagued with nightmares and insomnia.

Esme or Rosalie would sit with him through the night if their thirst allowed it, utterly mesmerized with the sleeping child and always near to comfort him when he would awaken screaming in terror from the nightmares that he claimed to not remember. I was reluctant to give him any type of sleep aid and only used Jasper's gift sparingly recognizing it for the addition it could quickly become, but when he struggled to fall asleep night after night despite repeated attempts to comfort him, I had to consider another option . His sleepless nights were affecting his concentration at school and I conceded that a child psychologist might need to be consulted to help him deal with his anxiety.

But as time went on the nightmares gradually receded and Rosalie and Esme relaxed their constant vigil over his bedside, still mindful of the nights he would awaken and slip from his bed to stare out the window, attempting to catch glimpses of us disappearing into the night and endlessly curious about what drew us from the house when most people were asleep in their beds; his fascination with our forays into the surrounding wilderness becoming troublesome in light of our lifestyle.

School was another routine that had taken over much of our lives. My vampire children were quite capable of getting themselves off to school every day or at least frequently enough not to draw admonishments from the school officials, but Edward was another story.

He had to be awakened, often reluctantly, fed and either driven or bused to school. Because high school started much earlier than elementary school, the responsibility of readying Edward for the upcoming school day fell primarily on Esme with some assistance from me.

Feeding Edward was always a challenge, both because of his reluctance to eat when the rest of us did not join him and Esme's unfamiliarity with the eating habits of human children. I counseled her as best I could; my time with humans and my medical knowledge had made me more than proficient in the _whens, whys_ and _hows_ of the feeding practices of my human patients, but it was the _whats_ that I had some trouble with.

I never paid much attention to the disgusting smelling glob provided to my patients every day in the hospital and judging by their reaction to it, my opinion of their food wasn't far off base. My rather informal education on what humans ate was not helping Esme as she consulted cook books and watched cooking shows on TV. She was more than capable of preparing a meal for Edward, but was confused when he would stare at the plate piled high with all the primary food groups, not understanding what exactly it was that she was feeding him.

He always ate it and never complained even if his face gave away his distaste for the food he was putting in his mouth and that would send Esme into a panic as she tried to understand what she did wrong. When I tried to convince her that humans had taste preferences similar to our desire for the blood of different species of animals, she quickly dismissed my comments; _the egg incident_ always a reminder that my own knowledge of the human diet was shaky at best.

In my defense, I could hardly be blamed for my lack of specifics when telling her that humans liked chicken eggs for breakfast without elaborating that the eggs needed to be cracked open and cooked or at the very least boiled in water still in the shell. Esme's assumption that chicken eggs were an important part of the diet and a quick simple meal for breakfast, didn't think twice about serving Edward a plate of raw eggs still in the shell, then chastising me when he refused to eat them whole, shell and all. It was the only time he declined to eat a meal and after initially appearing terrified that he might be punished for it, we were able to turn it into a joke; a commentary on Esme's poor cooking skills. Using that incident as validation that Esme needed help in the kitchen, Edward started to assist her in planning his meals, educating her on the human diet without understanding why she wouldn't already know.

With Alice's forecast to guide us, we would drive Edward to and from school on cloudy days and let him ride the school bus when the sun promised to make an appearance. Though our vehicles were equipped with tinted windows we couldn't take the chance of a random teacher tapping on our window wanting to chat about our foster son while we waited for Edward outside the school.

He didn't seem to mind the variation in the routine, assuring us that the bus ride was much shorter than it had been when he was bused to and from the reservation every day and we were always there to pick him up, the rumbling old school bus announcing its presence long before it stopped at the end of our driveway.

The question of whether Edward would attend school had been debated. Initially we thought to home school him to minimize the possibility that some of our more unusual eccentricities might leak out. Our secluded life style brought with it enough questions and rumors and it was imprudent to provide fuel to those that speculated on the antics of peculiar neighbors, but I was advised by my colleague that isolation from other children was not in his best interest and I didn't need a curious social worker showing up unannounced to check in on him. Keeping Edward in the public eye answered more questions than it created and it gave him the social freedom to interact with his peers

Edward was a good student despite his traumatic upbringing. He was highly intelligent and embraced all aspects of his school work, finding kinship in the academic attitude prevalent in our home. Unlike many victims of abuse, he did not act out in school, his need to please extending beyond the reaches of our household to that of his teachers as well. His passivity and docile demeanor left him open to bullying by his peers, but I was always mindful of any reluctance on Edward's part to attend school usually manifesting into phantom headaches that could not be cured with a placebo candy; so any issues at school were quickly addressed.

Edward's headaches were one of the few symptoms of his past abuse and he wielded it like a sword. Anytime he felt pressure or stress or the desire to isolate himself, he would invariable revert to pressing his hand to his head and squinting his eyes, the first sign of the persistent but nonexistent headache.

Surprisingly he never developed headaches when I was not around so my assumption was that it was his way of relating to me, feigning a sickness or injury so I could play my role as the doctor, enabling us to interact though hardly in the way I envisioned.

He did the same with others in the family, but using different techniques. With Rosalie, he was helpless allowing himself to be coddled, insisting he couldn't do things for himself when he clearly could, pandering to her desire to lavish attention on the child as if he were her own.

He indulged Alice by standing patiently as she plied him with clothing, trying on outfit after outfit showing equal amounts of enthusiasm for each one. With Jasper, who he'd grown comfortable with during the day but at night in the throes of a nightmare would awaken and inevitably ask where Jasper was, he would listen riveted as Jasper read his history books out loud, particularly ones on military strategy though that was less of an indulgence and more of a passionate interest that they both shared.

It was only with Esme and Emmett that he truly expressed himself and only after analyzing whether they would want to hear what he had to say. His close relationship with Esme didn't surprise me, she was meant to be a mother and she doted on the boy and him on her. He'd given up trying to determine what would please her by discovering that anything he did pleased her. Perhaps his only discretionary habit was to remain upbeat and talkative in her presence hiding any sign of fear or pain if he thought it might upset her.

His attachment to Emmett defied the imagination. Emmett's size alone could be enough to intimidate the burliest men and more than one nomadic vampire promptly disappeared from our territory when Emmett was the first to confront him, but Edward seemed amused by him and quickly took to following after him, hardly able to keep up even when Emmett moved at his most sluggish human pace.

But Emmett would often forget that the boy trailing him was human and thought nothing of jumping from a second story window or quickly climbing up a tree balancing on the narrowest of tree branches forgetting that his young shadow would mimic him in some capacity. Generally where Emmett went and Edward followed, Rosalie wouldn't be far behind, catching Edward as he jumped from trees or tried to wade into the especially deep fast moving river that Emmett effortless scaled. The child's attempt to imitate Emmett was dangerous and even life threatening but his interaction with him was completely real and even I was jealous of it.

In an effort to initiate more of a relationship with the child, one that went beyond that of an authoritative figure and perhaps something closer to caregiver, I insisted on taking my turn in his basic care, much to Esme's pleasure who took it as a sign that I was finally relenting in my stubborn stance that he was only with us temporarily until a better option could be found for him.

She was right, of course. I wanted this boy in my life more than I cared to admit to myself or anyone else.

It wasn't that I had any reservations that my family would find out that I was capable of having feelings for Edward that extended beyond the professional façade I usually hid behind; but if I were honest with myself, I was afraid. Afraid of the warm feeling of pride that would migrate through my chest when Edward succeeded in something, concern when he was in pain, anxiety when I felt I couldn't comfort him and something else, something that filled me with anguish whenever I thought of losing him. And on top of all those emotions was that shadow that threatened to darken the skies of the idyllic life that had unexpectedly enveloped us in this little town. There was fear and it gnawed at me and not only because it was becoming more pronounced as my feelings for the child grew. I feared for his safety and I feared for the welfare of my family.

So many things could go wrong.

* * *

**_Author Notes:_**

_**I did not explore what happened to George and Karen because it wasn't relevant to the story, but rest assured they did face legal consequences for their actions. For those that were hoping for more, I couldn't conceive a situation where Carlisle would approve a violent confrontation and though Rosalie certainly might have gotten some revenge, the Cullens don't need the aggravation right now.**_

_**Is anyone annoyed with Carlisle for refusing to help Edward sooner? I could not realistically expect him to interfere with a situation that would have been all too prevalent in his experiences as a doctor. How many times has Carlisle seen young children suffer through abuse, neglect and poverty. Much more than we can imagine so I didn't envision him immediately embracing the idea of getting involved in Edward life.**_

_**I also lopped off about 2000 words of this chapter that related to the coming Christmas Holiday. If you did the math you would know that it's mid December. Sorry but I just can't write The Cullen's Family Christmas, it would just be a little too sweetfor my taste. Edward will refer back to it in upcoming chapters because he gets to see Bella who visits for the Christmas Holiday.**_

_**I have a couple of more chapters to go with Edward as a seven year old, then I'll jump back to one chapter with seventeen year old Edward, then the story will start to move a little faster, covering more years of Edward's life and highlighting significant periods in his life.  
**_

_**Reviews? I'm even asking for bad reviews. Was it confusing. Too wordy? I sort of hate this chapter. Private comments work too. :o)**_


	9. Santa Lives

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: Please don't read if you don't want to know the truth about Santa Claus. ;o)**_

_**Thank you so much for reading!**_

* * *

"Okay are you ready? I'm going to give you a push and let go."

Edward nodded, not really sure if he was ready, but not willing to admit he wasn't.

"Here we go, make sure to pedal."

He gripped the handle bars as tight as he could and concentrated on keeping the wheel straight, trying not to think about anything and trying to forget that Emmett wasn't going to hold the bike up forever, eventually he was going to let go. He was worried about falling down. Not that he was afraid of getting hurt, but he didn't want Emmett to think he was a _baby_. Most seven year olds already knew how to ride a bike; most seven year olds had probably owned a few different bikes already, but for Edward this was his first one and before that the only bike he ever tried to ride was Jacob's and that was when it still had training wheels on it.

"I'm going to let go now, you're doing great."

He nodded again; too busy steering and pedaling to talk. It felt like he was going really fast, but Emmett was right there with him and didn't seem to have any trouble keeping up at all.

It had been two weeks since he first saw the bike sitting under the Christmas tree with a big bow on it, but this was the first time he tried to ride it, the first day it wasn't raining _cats and dogs_. He still couldn't believe he actually owned a bike. He hadn't understood why it was there in the living room when he first noticed it. The bike was too small for any of the Cullens to ride and he didn't think they knew any other little kids that might want a bike like that, but he had never gotten any real presents at Christmas time before and no one mentioned that it was a _possibility_, so it hadn't occurred to him that the bike might be for him. He pretended not to notice it or any of the other presents under the Christmas tree either even when Alice made the comment about Santa Claus _paying a visit_ overnight.

He knew there was no such thing as Santa Claus…had known if for a long time. He wasn't sure when he first found out, but it was before he went to live with George and Karen and before Mike told him that only snot nosed babies believed in Santa. When he was really little he thought that maybe Santa only brought presents to kids that lived where there was a lot of snow on the ground. But when he started school he realized that almost all kids got presents from Santa and the ones that didn't were on the _naughty list_.

Edward wasn't too sure about being on the _naughty list_, because he didn't think he was any naughtier than most kids but he was a _foster kid_ and everyone knew that _foster kids_ couldn't live with their real mom and dad because they were _bad_, so that explained a lot about Santa Claus and why he didn't get presents.

When Mike finally told him the _true story_, he wasn't sure if he believed him _given the source_, but it sort of made sense and he felt a little better knowing the real reason that he didn't get any gifts, was because there was no such thing as Santa Claus. That didn't explain why he didn't get gifts from his mom and dad or George and Karen who only had to pretend to be Santa, but at least he wasn't on any _naughty list_.

Except he wasn't with George and Karen any more, he was with the Cullens and when he walked by the living room on Christmas morning he hadn't expected to see anything under the Christmas tree and when he did see the presents and that shiny black bike with the orange handles and red racing stripes, his heart did a little flip flop and for just a second he thought maybe the bike was for him and maybe there was a Santa Claus after all.

He tried to ignore the living room and the Christmas tree and all the presents, but he couldn't ignore Esme when she took him by the hand after breakfast and sat next to him on the sofa and everyone else came in and they gave him almost all the presents under the tree and the last one was the bike with the bow on it. That was when he finally believed it. Maybe he didn't believe that there was a Santa Claus, but still it was nice to know he had that _option_ and all the Christmas presents said _From Santa_, so it was _possible_.

Now he was actually riding the bike for the first time and he was glad no one else was around but Emmett who didn't seem to care that he wasn't able to ride it by himself even if most kids his age could. He didn't even know that Emmett had let go until he heard him clap his hands and realized Emmett couldn't do that and hold onto the bike at the same time.

"You're doing it buddy, just keep pedaling."

Edward managed to pedal to the sharp turn in the driveway before he felt the bike wobble under him and then he didn't feel anything, because Emmett had picked up the bike with him still on it and spun him up in the air, putting him and bike back on the driveway facing the house

"Good Eddie. Let's go show Rosalie," Emmett said cheerfully, jogging next to him and letting go of the back of the seat so he was pedaling the bike by himself again.

Rosalie hadn't been outside when he first started riding his bike but Edward could see her now standing by the garage and he aimed for her, concentrating on pedaling and steering and forgetting that he needed to _apply the brakes_ until he almost ran over her. But then he was up in the air and spinning around again and he couldn't help but giggle because it was almost like flying. She put him back down on the ground in exactly the same way Emmett had done and he was going in the opposite direction again heading straight for Emmett who pretended to stand in his path but jumped out of the way and grabbed his bike and him, spinning him around so he was facing Rosalie again.

"You might want to teach him how to use the brakes," Rosalie scolded but she didn't sound mad and that was good. When Rosalie got mad, _watch out_ or at least Emmett should _watch out_. She never got mad at him.

"I did teach him how to use the brakes, but the kid's got a rebellious streak in him."

"I do not," Edward said pedaling hard toward Rosalie, not bothering with braking since apparently she could just stop him by grabbing the bike and lifting it up. He didn't know what a _rebellious streak_ was, but he didn't think it was a good thing.

"He's a wild man." Emmett countered.

"I am not." He was biking hard toward Emmett, but this time Emmett didn't stop the bike and stepped aside letting Edward continue down the driveway.

Edward loved the feeling of flying across the ground and he was pretty sure he was going too fast for even Emmett to catch him, but when he glanced over his shoulder he saw that Emmett was right there trotting along side of him, hardly moving much at all. He pedaled harder.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, maybe you boys should come in," Rosalie called after them.

Esme had gone with Carlisle to the city so Rosalie was responsible for _fixing dinner_ and that thought was scary enough to make Edward pedal even faster.

"In awhile Rose, one more trip down the driveway."

Edward decided riding a bike really wasn't all that hard and he didn't understand what all the fuss was about. He thought if he could just go up and down the driveway a couple more times he would know how to steer it and brake too, though braking didn't seem necessary when someone was always there to catch him and spin him around in the air.

"Hear that Eddie, sounds like the mailman. I'm going to run down and get the mail. Besides, you're doing a great job, you don't need me anymore," Emmett said, jogging past him.

Edward didn't know how Emmett knew the mailman was here and he wasn't so sure that he didn't need Emmett anymore but he wasn't going to say anything. He wasn't even going to tell him to quit calling him Eddie. He sort of liked the name. It sounded more like a kid's name then Edward did, but every time Emmett would say Eddie, Esme or Rosalie or sometimes both of them would scold him. So he guessed that they didn't like the name very much or maybe they just liked Edward better because it was _old fashioned_.

Now that he knew how to ride it, he was beginning to think the bike was the best Christmas gift he got, even better than the chess set Carlisle gave him, the one in the library with the blue and red army men. Carlisle said Esme had bought it for him on one of their first Christmas' together and it was _really really old_ but since Edward played with it the most, he should keep it in his room.

At first Edward felt bad that Carlisle would give up his chess set so he could play army men with the pieces and not use them to play chess, but then he saw Esme's new present to Carlisle, another chess set made out of smooth glass with weirdly shaped pieces that looked nothing like kings and queens and soldiers.

Esme said it was much older than the other chess set and Carlisle looked happy with it even though Edward couldn't understand how giving old gifts would make someone happy. He had gotten plenty of old toys in the past and most of the time they weren't very nice or were broken or both. New stuff was much better. But he had to admit that the chess set that he never used for playing chess was about the best gift he ever got even if it was _really really old_.

But now he decided his bike was the best gift and even if it was from Santa Claus who really didn't exist he wouldn't tell Carlisle that he liked the bike better than the army chess set because he didn't want him to feel bad.

Emmett had disappeared down the long windy driveway, but Edward wasn't too worried because he thought he had the biking thing pretty much _under control_ and it wasn't that hard except when he slowed down to steer around a curve and his bike wobbled a little.

He thought about Bella, and imagined her biking with him. He guessed she had a bike though she never mentioned it to him and he hadn't seen one when he was at Charlie's house a couple of weeks ago.

Bella hadn't changed since the summer and when she saw him for the first time, she gave him a big hug and even though he felt stupid with Charlie watching, he hugged her back and decided she smelled even better than Alice. Bella was in Forks for seven whole days but he only got to see her twice and both times it was when Carlisle dropped him off to play for the afternoon.

He wished Bella could come to the Cullen's house so he could show her all the toys he had and all the clothes that Alice had bought him. He thought it important that she know he wasn't that _weird little kid_ anymore with the mean _foster _mom and dad and _foster_ brothers that bullied him. He thought it would be nice if he could bring her to meet Esme and Carlisle and Rosalie and Emmett and Alice and even Jasper, but when he mentioned it, he saw the adults _share a look_ and then he knew that he made a _big mistake_ and should have remembered that Carlisle told him he couldn't have friends over to play when he came to live with them.

But being with Bella made him forget his _hurt feelings_ and he decided it didn't much matter that Bella couldn't come to the Cullen's house, he was just happy he could be with her. Her room was all purple even the carpet and she had lots and lots of books; not as many books as Carlisle had in his library, but a lot for a little girl that didn't live in Forks most of the time.

The nicest thing about Bella's room was that she had a bunch of butterflies that lived there with her. He wasn't sure exactly what she meant when she first told him, because as far as he could see, she didn't have any butterfly cages or any other place to keep them and with the door wide open they could just fly out of the room anyway. So she shut off her big light and turned on her little light and shut the bedroom door which sort of made him nervous because Charlie told them to leave the door open. Then she had him lay down on the floor and she laid next to him and pointed out all the butterflies that flew around her room. He didn't really see any butterflies himself no matter how hard he looked where Bella pointed. He just saw the light from the small lamp bouncing off the walls that made funny patterns on the ceiling, but no butterflies at all. But Bella insisted and he just needed to _look harder_, so he didn't say anything else about not seeing the butterflies and concentrated on listening to her pretty voice as she described each one in _vivid detail._

Thinking about Bella made him bike even faster. He guessed he was almost half way down the driveway, but still no Emmett. He wouldn't make it all the way to the mailbox before Emmett started back but he wanted to get as far as he could. It might rain _cats and dogs_ again so he wanted to get as much bike time in as possible.

He heard a phone ringing in the distance and thought Rosalie must be calling Emmett to tell them dinner was ready. He saw the sharp bend in the driveway approaching fast and tried to decide how slow he had to go to get around it. He sort of wished Emmett was here to help him and as if he could read his mind, Edward heard his voice.

"Edward STOP."

Never, ever had Emmett spoke to him like that and Edward felt his stomach clench up. He wasn't sure what Emmet meant. He wasn't doing anything wrong, but maybe Emmett could see he was going too fast and he wasn't going to be able to make the turn though he didn't know how Emmett saw that since he couldn't see Emmett at all.

He tried to remember what he had been told by both Emmett and Jasper when it came to stopping. He just had to pedal backward and he would stop. He didn't understand how that worked with his legs going super fast forward, but he knew he wasn't going to make the turn now so he concentrated really hard and tried to remember how he'd been shown to _apply the brake_ then he stood a little, stepped back…and he stopped.

But that wasn't quite right. Only his bike stopped, but he just kept going and he knew it was going to hurt before he even hit the ground because he had been going super fast, faster even then he could run and he had a lot of experience with falling down when he ran and it always hurt.

He felt himself fly through the air and he stuck his hands out to protect his head, guessing that his _bruised brain_ would hurt a lot worse if he landed on it and then he rolled over and over before he finally hit, what he thought was a tree, but it turned out to be Emmett who was suddenly there stopping him from rolling any further.

But then Emmett wasn't holding onto him anymore and he was lying just off the driveway on the corner of the really sharp bend. He saw his bike and it looked all crumpled up and there was a big scratch across the frame and he thought it might be wrecked and that made him want to cry. He raised his hands to his face to wipe his eyes and that's when he saw that they were both scraped up really bad from _bracing_ himself.

He wasn't afraid of the blood he saw on both his palms and he didn't cry when he saw his torn jeans and the big cut on his knee. None of his _injuries_ really hurt that bad, but then he looked up at Emmett to see how much trouble he was in and he knew he was in a lot of trouble. Probably more trouble than he had ever been in before.

Emmett's eyes were black, as black as Jasper's had been that night in the woods and even though it wasn't dark out and only a little cloudy, it still looked like maybe Emmett didn't have any eyes at all and there were just two holes in his head where his eyes should have been. But the worst thing about Emmett wasn't his black eyes or the way he was looking at him just like Jasper had looked at him, like he might be something good to eat; the worst thing about Emmett was that as far as Edward could tell, there was nothing about the big man in front of him that resembled Emmett anymore. What he saw now was just a big giant Emmett-monster licking his lips and when he blinked, Emmett was gone.

Then he started to cry.

* * *

Rosalie's sudden appearance in the middle of the driveway didn't surprise him. He was use to the Cullens appearing out of nowhere. They were always sneaking up on him even if they didn't mean to and it had been one of the first things he noticed about Rosalie and Esme when he saw them in the woods; how they floated and moved without any sound or effort.

Most of the time he guessed he wasn't paying good enough _attention_ to what was going on around him, but this time he was pretty sure he had been staring at his broken bike lying in the driveway and then he was staring at Rosalie holding his bike and he couldn't remember that he had looked anywhere else or even blinked, yet there she was.

But that wasn't what scared him. In his brief time with the Cullens he knew they were different and he tried not to notice, tried to pretend that they were just the same as everyone else. Normally that wasn't so hard, but this time was different. This time Rosalie wasn't looking at him; she wasn't talking to him or helping him stand up or brushing him off; this time it was like she almost didn't see him at all and that scared him, scared him almost as much as when he heard George or Karen coming down to the basement to punish him.

He let out a whimper.

Rosalie cocked her head but was looking at the house. "Can you walk, Edward? Are you badly hurt?"

Her voice sounded funny, like she was having problems breathing. But at least she wasn't pretending he wasn't there anymore.

"I'm not hurt bad; I can walk." He stood up abruptly and flexed his knee.

Rosalie started walking, holding his bike in one hand. He thought she might reach back and take his hand, but she didn't. She didn't even look to see if he was following her. He knew he did something wrong, something even more wrong than falling off his bike and scratching the paint; probably something so wrong that they would send him away but he still didn't know what it was. First Emmett had looked at him with inky black eyes and runaway and now Rosalie wasn't looking at him at all, wasn't making sure he was alright or helping him walk or even suggesting she carry him which he thought she would probably have at least offered to do because she always liked doing things like that for him.

It was a long walk back to the house and the entire way Rosalie didn't look at him once and only spoke to him to tell him that Carlisle was on his way home from the city and would fix him all up. He wanted to tell her that he didn't need Carlisle to _fix him up_. He wasn't hurt that bad and had been hurt a lot worse and never had a doctor have to _fix him up _once except for when he bruised his brain and rib, but she didn't seem like she wanted to talk about it so he decided he wouldn't say anything and he tried not to cry. But every once in a while a little quivering noise would come out of his mouth before he could stop it. Still, she wouldn't look back even though he knew she had to hear him, because she always heard him.

"I'm going to put your bike in the garage. Can you go into the house and clean yourself up?" she asked when they got to the front door.

When Edward didn't answer she looked back for the first time and that's when he saw what he was sort of expecting to see all along. Her eyes were black, as black as Jasper's and Emmett's and he understood right then and there that he was right that night in the hospital when he wondered if Carlisle's eyes could change from black to gold. They all could change color, from black to gold and from gold to black and when they did that, it was bad…very bad for him.

"I'm not a…a baby, I can clean myself up," he whispered.

"Okay, Carlisle will be home soon. I'll…I'll be right back."

He barely heard her as she moved away from him carrying his bike. She wasn't as fast as Emmett, but she was still pretty fast.

He got the front door open, using the sides of hands and limped into the bathroom in Esme's office. Jasper had brought him a little stool so he could stand by the sink and see into the mirror and when he looked he saw that his face was all red and his eyes were all puffy and he looked just about as bad as he felt. Rosalie would have seen all that and thinking about that made him feel even worse.

He sort of liked it when she would _mother him around_ and he could tell that she liked it too, but this time she hadn't _mothered him around_ at all. This time she had ignored him and his red puffy face and swollen eyes and scrapes on his hands that were bleeding and the cut on his knee that hurt and was bleeding even worse than his hands were. This time she ignored all of that and he thought he knew why. Like when George would start swearing or Karen would scream and stomp around, he knew that the Cullens eyes would get really black when they were mad at him and when their eyes got really black he had to watch out for himself, because that's when it was most dangerous for him.

He thought about that as he washed the blood from his hands, then pulled off his ruined jeans to check his knee. That cut was a lot worse. The blood had run down his leg and dried on his skin so he had to get a wash cloth and scrub it, but when he tried dabbing at the cut it started to bleed again so he was _back to square one_.

He carefully considered what he had done wrong that would make Emmett and Rosalie so mad at him that their eyes would turn black, but after running the _entire incident_ over in his mind he couldn't come up with a good _explanation_. He put a scratch on the bike, a big scratch, one that would be noticed right away, even _from a distance_ and it was his fault because he didn't know how to stop even when Emmett and Jasper told him.

He wondered if having a _rebellious streak_ was worse than being a _weird little kid_. No one liked _weird little kids_ so it would be reasonable that no one would like a _rebellious streak _either. But Rosalie never seemed to care that he was a _weird little kid_, so he had a hard time understanding why she would care that he had a _rebellious streak_.

He didn't want to think anymore about how he had ruined_ a good thing_ and he couldn't get the blood to stop on his knee anyway, so he took the wash rag and his torn bloody jeans and went back into Esme's office. The house was quiet, Rosalie hadn't come back to check on him and this more than anything proved how mad she was at him. Even when he didn't need her help she was always around, but not this time; this time the house was quiet and the only thing he could hear was the tick tock of the big clock in the hallway that chimed at the _top of the hour_.

For the first time since he came to stay with the Cullens he felt alone. Really alone, not like at night when he would wake up and no one would be in his room or when he sat down and ate and no one else would eat with him. Now he felt like maybe he was the only person left in the whole world and he would be by himself forever and ever in the big giant house that didn't have any neighbors for him to visit or any garbage cans for him to eat out of and thinking about that made him almost start to cry again.

He wondered when Alice would be home. Would Rosalie tell her about the torn jeans? He guessed she probably would but he didn't know for sure so he shoved them under the bed thinking maybe he could just hide them and that would be one less person that would be mad at him. It only took him a second to think that maybe he could hide himself too, so still holding the rag to his knee and hoping he wasn't getting blood on the floor, he crawled as far under the bed as he could.

He didn't know how long it would take Carlisle to drive from the city but he supposed it would be a long time. Probably close to bedtime before he and Esme got home and since no one was around to check on him or feed him dinner, he thought lying under the bed was as good a place as any and he sort of liked it. It was like a fort. He thought about getting his chess army men to keep him company but he wasn't sure that he could hold them _and_ the rag over his knee so he decided it would be _more trouble than it was worth_.

He guessed he fell asleep for a little while because the next thing he knew Carlisle was calling his name and Edward could see his brown shiny shoes from under the bed. He knew it was wrong and he would probably get in more trouble than he already was but he didn't say anything, not a word and he hoped that Carlisle would just go away. He didn't want to see him with black eyes too and he was sure that whatever he did to make Emmett and Rosalie mad would have the same effect on Carlisle and turn his eyes as black as theirs.

But he should have known that hiding under the bed would be the first place anyone would look for a missing boy and the next thing he knew the bed wasn't there anymore and it was just Carlisle staring down at him. He supposed the sudden disappearance of the bed should have aroused some curiosity in him but he was more interested in Carlisle's eyes and so far they were still as golden and sparkly as they always were.

"So you learned to ride your bike today," Carlisle said, picking him up and standing him on his feet.

That was the last thing Edward expected Carlisle to say. He looked at him cautiously then remembered he didn't have any pants on and he felt stupid standing around in his underwear. He was glad Esme wasn't around.

"I fell," he managed to say, guessing Carlisle would want an _explanation_.

"I see that. Well it isn't the first time a little boy fell from a bike. Come, let's go to my office and I'll patch you up." Carlisle took his hand, but when Edward resisted, he read his mind. "Don't worry, everyone is outside, it's just you and me in the house."

He nodded, but he still felt embarrassed. At least Carlisle didn't look mad at him and that was something, though maybe he didn't know about the bike yet.

"I scratched my bike," he offered.

"That will happen, but we can have Rosalie paint it so it will look as good as new."

Carlisle lifted him up and put him on the corner of his desk in the same spot where he sat for his _breathing exercises_ when he had a bruised rib, then he rummaged in his black doctor bag looking for something and that made Edward worried.

"Do you have to give me a shot," he said anxiously and sighed when Carlisle shook his head and smiled.

"No shots and no stitches. I just want to clean this up a little bit," he said opening a package of gauze.

He dabbed at the cut on Edward's knee, swabbing over it with orange stinky stuff and Edward winced when it started to sting.

"Why are Emmett and Rosalie mad at me?" he blurted out.

Carlisle looked at him surprised. "Why do you think they're mad at you, Edward?"

"Because Emmett ran away when he saw me and Rosalie wouldn't look at me and she didn't…she didn't help me." His voice cracked and he realized he was on the verge of tears, _again_.

Carlisle put down a package of bandages and gripped Edward's shoulders. "Edward, no one is mad at you, I promise you that."

Edward nodded but looked away. He had a lot of experience with people being mad at him so he wasn't too sure about that.

"Edward, look at me."

He did as he was told but Carlisle's face was blurry so he knew his eyes were filling with tears. He didn't understand why he had to be such a baby all the time. No one had even hit him.

"You trust me don't you?"

Edward nodded. He didn't know what that had to do with anything though.

"When I say Rosalie and Emmett aren't mad at you I mean it. It wasn't your fault that you fell off your bike and got hurt. And you understand that Rosalie would always help you if she could, right?

He nodded again automatically. He might have believed that earlier in the day but now he wasn't so certain. He couldn't think of a single good reason why Rosalie would ignore him unless she was mad at him but he couldn't tell Carlisle that. Rosalie was his _adopted daughter_ and he was just a _foster kid_, so what he thought didn't really count.

"If you had been hurt in any other way she would have been right there to help you and so would Emmett."

Edward didn't understand what that meant but he wasn't in a _position_ to start asking questions; tears were sliding down his face and he was pretty sure his voice would be too shaky to talk.

"Remember when we talked about how we are different from other people and how living with us would be an adjustment, how it might be hard because we don't eat like most people or sleep like most people or even look like most people. Do you remember that talk?"

Edward nodded. He was thinking about how Esme sparkled when she worked on her garden when the sun was shining. At first it was creepy but she told him it was because their skin was so white; they all sparkled when they were in the sun and he guessed that was another example of the differences that Carlisle was talking about and he really couldn't complain about that, because Carlisle had warned him right from the start.

"That's why Emmett had to leave you and Rosalie couldn't help you like she wanted to. That's why Esme isn't in here right now holding your hand while I patch you up."

Carlisle had let go of his shoulders like he just remembered why they were there and covered the cut on Edward's knee with a big bandage, securing it with white tape. "It's the blood…none of them can handle the sight of blood; it makes them sick."

Edward's eyes widened at that comment and at first he thought Carlisle was joking but when he rubbed his eyes and studied his face he knew he was serious. Carlisle had a face that he made when he was joking and a face he made when he was serious and he definitely had his _serious face_ on.

"Does it make Jasper and Alice sick to?" he asked holding his palms out so Carlisle could clean his hands with the same orange stinky stuff that he guessed must be medicine.

"Yes it makes them sick too."

"But it doesn't make you sick?" Edward asked skeptically, studying Carlisle's face to see if Carlisle had a _sick face_.

"It use too. A long long time ago; but I got use to it and it's a good thing too. I wouldn't be a very good doctor if I got sick every time I saw blood." This time Carlisle sounded like he was joking or at least he wasn't serious any more so Edward relaxed a little.

Now he was curious. "Is that why Emmett's eyes were black?"

The moment he asked the question he wished he could take it back, because Carlisle stopped what he was doing and stared at him intently, like he was studying his face to see if _he_ was joking.

"There are a lot of things that can change our eye color to black, but yes getting sick is one of those things."

"Do your eyes turn black?" He knew he should probably stop asking questions. He had a feeling he was in _dangerous territory_ now.

"All of our eyes can turn black, but it's nothing for you to worry yourself over. It's just part of how we are different."

Carlisle stopped staring at him and turned his attention back to Edward's hands. Edward winched and cried out a couple of times but he felt a lot better. He was happy that Emmett and Rosalie weren't mad at him and he hoped Alice wouldn't be mad when she saw his torn jeans. He was curious about why the Cullens were all so different from anyone he had ever known before but for some reason, he thought it was probably best if he didn't ask too many questions. Most people didn't like to talk too much about things like black eyes and sparkly skin and not eating or sleeping like normal people and it didn't matter anyway.

"There you go. How do you feel? Does it hurt much?" Carlisle let go of his hands and rubbed his fingers through Edward's hair like he did when he was examining his _bruised brain_. "You didn't hurt anything else did you? How does your head feel?"

Edward thought his head might hurt a little but he wasn't ready for any _pain medication_, because that meant he would have to go to bed and he wanted to find Emmett and Rosalie and see if they were really mad at him or if what Carlisle said was true.

"It doesn't hurt too much." He looked down at the bandage on his knee, then back up at Carlisle holding out his hands, palms up. "Am I still going to make them sick?"

Carlisle smiled a little and sighed and Edward wished he could take it back. He thought he probably asked more questions than a normal kid would and he had to learn to keep his _mouth shut_ so he wouldn't _piss anyone off _like he always seemed to do after they got to know him.

"No of course not sweetheart, you've been all patched up and everyone is anxious to see you." Esme said from the doorway.

Edward wasn't sure but he thought he saw her smell at the air.

"Are you hungry? Rosalie has something all fixed up for you," she said brightly, holding out her arms to him and lifting him from the desk before he even realized she had moved.

"Does it look good?"

He knew that question would make Esme laugh and he wasn't disappointed. He liked it best when Esme laughed because that made Carlisle laugh and keeping Carlisle happy was important.

"Well, why don't you taste it and tell us." She said putting her hands on either side of his head and giving him a kiss on the top of it. Alice has some new jeans for you in your room; why don't you go try them on and then come out to the kitchen."

Edward put his arms around her, giving her a big hug, pulling back just in time to see her give Carlisle _the look_ that adults shared between each other when they didn't want to say something _out loud._ Edward wasn't sure but he thought _the look_ had something to do with what happened today. Maybe getting sick at the sight of blood was _the final straw_. Maybe even if it wasn't his fault that he got cut and scraped and bled, they were tired of _dealing with it_. He felt a little better when Esme wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her like she meant it.

He didn't want to leave Esme and Carlisle in the room alone; he didn't want them to talk about him, but eventually she loosened her grip and he knew he had to go and get dressed and eat whatever it was Rosalie had made for him and he didn't have any control if they decided to _get rid of him_ so making a big fuss about it wasn't going to _help the_ _situation_ anyway.

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**_Author Notes:_**

**_Though Edward's situation has improved considerably with the Cullens, living with vampires has its dangers and I will continue to emphasize these dangers throughout this story. Are you wondering about the butterflies? Yeah, so is Edward._**

**_I have one or maybe two more chapters left of Edward as a seven year old (I'm still trying to figure out how to write it), then back to the hospital with seventeen year old Edward for a chapter, then the pace will pick up._**

**_I'd love to hear from you._**


	10. Momentary Setback

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**I went into this chapter not sure how I was going to write it or even what I was going to say. I only knew what I wanted to accomplish. So surprise, surprise another one from Carlisle's POV.**_

* * *

_Carlisle's POV_

The end of the school day was still forty-five minutes away but remaining in the house for a second longer had become unbearable so I fled on the excuse that I was going to pick Edward up early, knowing full well that I was fooling no one. Fortunately the weather was on my side; the steady downpour of rain kept the occupants of the school safely inside. I did not need to worry about being bothered by curious parents or teachers and I owned the only Mercedes in Forks as far as I knew so my vehicle wouldn't draw undo suspicion idling in the parking lot.

I studied the droplets of water trickling down my windshield, each raindrop containing a kaleidoscope of colors as magnificent as the finest quality diamond, but too subtle to be detected by human eye. My fascination with the prism of colors that dotted my windshield was born less from an appreciation for the beauty of nature but instead as a futile attempt to distract myself from the heartbreaking deed that still awaited me

I had no one to blame but myself for the pain that burned in my chest, magnified by each breath I took and so I stubbornly vowed not to breathe until I was amongst humans again, deluding myself; the pain was still there and denying it oxygen did not lessen the burn.

When I tried to ignore it, concentrating instead on punishing myself, lamenting at my own stupidity; a tremendous wave of guilt accosted me, sapping me of my resolute determination to remain stoic despite my dismal failure to circumvent a scenario that could have been avoided through a reasonable amount of common sense.

I raked my fingers through my hair, not completely able to abandon my human habits, even when I was alone, still trying to come to terms with the reality that had so rudely been thrust upon us because of the _delusional charade_ as Rosalie bitterly referred to it that had been the last eight months of our life acting as foster parents to a human child.

It was over and there was no way to set it right or change the inevitable at least not legally and over the last few days each member of my family had come to terms with it one way or another. The boys had it the easiest, though dealing with their mate's grief might be the caveat needed to dispute my assumptions.

Certainly for Jasper, who always had to be on guard, careful to control his instincts that drove him to consider Edward a source of food rather than a member of the family, somewhere in his weary disappointment there had to be relief. He just had to be cognizant that expressions of that emotion would not be tolerated by Alice.

I shuddered and though it was physically impossible, I imagined I could feel the chill and dampness of the air permeating my marble bones. I reached over and turned the heat up as high as it could go and sat back closing my eyes, contemplating my other daughter's fragile emotional state.

_Rage. _

It was that emotion that scared me more than anything else. Rosalie's fury, her absolute outrage over what she perceived as the injustice perpetuated against Edward made her unpredictable and dangerous. She was incensed and with that emotion came irrational solutions to a dilemma that as far as she was concerned could be resolved by conjuring up the gifts we were so well endowed with as vampires. As far as Rosalie was concerned, keeping Edward was the only conceivable option and whatever consequences resulted from her unrestrained actions would become my problem, since I was the one that ultimately was responsible for her.

Because I'd been so wrapped up in deflecting Rosalie's wrath and exasperation at my inaction in eliminating the cause of the upheaval in our life and that of Edward's, I had not been able to give Esme my full attention which ultimately had been a merciful release from the anguish she was experiencing but bravely tried to squelch understanding that despite my initial misgivings, the boy meant as much to me as he did to her and my grief would be no less agonizing.

But even if my wife forgave me for my steadfast resolve that we could not exert our will and forcible keep the child, I still felt or imagined I felt her disappointment in me and my refusal to at least consider some of Rosalie's suggestions of which not all resulted in the demise of Edward's biological parents.

Yes it was possible that we could snatch the boy and disappear, but how would we be any better than a depraved child abductor who undoubtedly could justify his despicable behavior just as we would try to do? Less drastic, but still ethically suspect, we could set the Masens up in a legally compromising situation that would jeopardize their ability to regain custody of their son, but their status as his parents wouldn't change and ultimately we would just be delaying the inevitable.

The bottom-line was that biological parents had certain rights to their children not offered to _vampire_ foster families and no matter past transgressions; they were always given first consideration during custody disputes.

Reminding my family what we were getting into had not been received well and any of my obscure comments that could in any way be misconstrued as _I told you so_ was met with blatant hostility so I refrained from calling forth my words from months earlier regarding the unlikelihood that we would ever be a part of Edward's life in the long term.

If I were honest with myself, I suspected I felt some relief, though mine was born from an entirely different rationale than Jasper's. I had never been able to reconcile how this would end. How Edward would be taken from us. The fact that his parents had simply requested custody of their son had been rather anticlimactic when I conceived of so many other scenarios that ranged from Edward's accidently death at the hands of one of my family members to the Volturi guard descending down upon us, their tolerance for our lifestyle stretched to a breaking point with the admittance of a human child into our lives.

A hard rap on the window startled me from my thoughts. I might have considered how it was that a human could startle me but given my emotional state I wasn't too alarmed. It was the crossing guard; an overtly pleasant older retired women that had made a habit of waving at me whenever I picked up Edward. She was thoroughly drenched from the rain, but had already moved away from my car by the time I lowered my window.

"Hello Mrs Labrowski. Would you like to sit in my car until school ends?" I said pleasantly, not eager for company but understanding that it was polite to offer.

"No thank you, Doctor Cullen. I'd be too afraid of ruining those fancy seats of yours," she called over her shoulder. "I had to make sure there was someone in the car. You're in a no parking zone."

Her genuine wariness in my presence wasn't lost on me. In fact, I had fretted over it on more than one occasion when I caught her gaze as she watched Edward climb into my car. She didn't trust me. Her instincts were right on target, but I'd given her no reason to pursue it with anyone and now I no longer had to worry about her. She would not see me at the school again.

I offered no further reply and closed my window, surprised at that passage of time. The parking lot was now full of school buses and cars were beginning to trickle in as parents arrived to pick up their children. I sniffed at the fresh air that Mrs. Labrowski's interruption had brought; Edward was still in the school, but I couldn't appease myself with believing he was hiding from me.

In fact, his reaction to the news that his parents had returned to Forks and wanted him back was startling given the suggestions of neglect documented in his case file that I _discreetly_ found myself in possession of when it was apparent Edward would be with us for more than a couple of weeks. I had only to remind myself and my family that children always longed to be with their parents and forgave the most atrocious behavior to ensure that a reunion was possible.

Given that no member of my family would have willingly handed him over to his parents if he conveyed even an ounce of reluctance, it was undoubtedly better for us that he displayed some enthusiasm and more than that, unbridled joy when told that he would be leaving us to be returned to his parents.

I received the momentous phone call just three days earlier and as luck would have it, it came on the weekend with all the members of my family home. I did not need to repeat the conversation, did not need to break the news to anyone, they all heard the caller's voice clearly enough. I could only half listen to Edward's social worker as I became cognizant of Esme's muffled cry from amidst her flowers that were just beginning to bloom in the garden and took some solace that Jasper was immediately at her side, trying to comfort her.

Emmett and Rosalie could not verbally express their anguish. They had Edward in the front lawn, engaged in a game of old fashion kickball; Rosalie hovering protectively at Edward's side ready to annihilate Emmett if he forgot his own strength and put Edward in any danger.

Alice's mumblings came from the living room, her subdued reaction attesting to the distraction of her visions as she moved from one to the other trying to understand why she failed to see the return of Edward's parents and their subsequent desire to have him back. I could only assume that it was a spontaneous decision that could change the future in a blink of an eye rendering Alice's gift useless in certain situations.

The social worker, Mrs. Grant was leery about providing me with too many details, concerned that I might try to contest the parents' rights to the child as past discussions between her and I had touched on his mistreatment at their hands. But there was nothing I could do and for one of the few times in my life I recognized that my vampirism was a hindrance. It would be far better to be human when confronting matters of the state.

Perhaps I could have fought for him, could have pursued a court case, because as deplorable as it was to admit, our wealth would give us a significant advantage in the judicial system. But I could not risk exposure, could not have anyone inquiring into my past or that of my family's. We covered our tracks as we moved from town to town but there was no question in my mind that we left loose strings behind, especially in the last four or five decades when technology was making it easier to research the backgrounds of individuals if someone was motivated enough to do it.

The ringing of the school bell brought with it a flux of exuberant children bursting through the doors, their shouts and laughter underscoring my own misery. Edward usually hung back and was one of the last children to emerge from the school. He had put on several pounds and grown a couple of inches since living with us, but he was still small for his age and his passive demeanor did not allow him to force his way to the front of the pack of children even as his excitement to see his parents might encourage him to try.

He was one of the last out the door, easily identifiable in his bright yellow raincoat that Alice insisted was as stylish today as it had been when she wore a similar such outer garment some decades before, finding as much discomfort in the rain as any human did.

I parked in the same spot every day and as expected, Edward had no difficulty finding me, the grin on his face perceptible even from the distance that still separated us. His enthusiasm for seeing his parents again had not diminished with time, even as I anticipated it might. But why should that surprise me, surprise any of us; children always wanted to be with their parents no matter how wretched they might be.

In fairness, I wasn't being completely sensible in my assertions of them. I had never met them, had not been given any specifics about their treatment of Edward or how he ended up in that travesty of a foster home that we ultimately rescued him from. It could be that they had a very good reason for leaving the boy behind or at least one that didn't allude to abuse and neglect though every indication suggested they were anything but ideal parents.

"Hi Carlisle," Edward said brightly, climbing into the back of the car, pushing the large duffel bag that took up almost the entire back seat over so he could squeeze in.

"Hi Edward, did you have a good day at school?" I asked trying to match his enthusiasm, but my voice sounded dull and lifeless to my ears.

"It was okay. Jessica got in trouble for talking and had to write one hundred times why talking in school is bad. Do you think talking in school is bad?"

"That would depend on when she was talking. Think about all the kids in your class talking at the same time and how hard it would be to hear the teacher." I said reasonably. This would be the last time Edward and I would share some time alone away from everyone else, our private chats about his school day always something that I found enjoyable, despite the simplicity of the conversation.

"I never thought about that. Well Jessica talks a lot anyway, so I don't feel too bad that she got in trouble for it." And he didn't sound sorry. Jessica wasn't one of his favorite classmates. "Why are we going this way?"

I maneuvered the vehicle through the pedestrian traffic and had turned North towards Port Angeles. My eyes caught and held Edward's in the rear view mirror. "Don't you remember, I'm taking you to your parents today? They are meeting us at Mrs. Grant's office."

Edward frowned. "I know, but I thought we were going home first. I have to say goodbye."

His fractured voice broke my heart and it wasn't lost on me that he referred to our house as _home_.

"You said goodbye this morning, Edward. Remember we told you that right after school I was going to take you to them."

"But how come I can't go and say goodbye one more time?"

His voice quivered a little and I was on the verge of turning the vehicle around, but that wouldn't do any of us any good. We had said our goodbyes and with Edward at school Rosalie and Alice had packed up his clothing, toys and books leaving Esme to disappear into the woods, declining my invitation to join her. They would not expect to see Edward again. I couldn't do it to them…or him.

"Your parents are waiting for you, son. We don't have time to run home. Remember how long it took this morning? They'll send a search party out to find you." Edward was unmoved by my attempts at levity. I was used to disguising my feelings, so why was it so hard for me to act positive in light of what should be a joyous reunion?

"I could have said goodbye really fast." He broke our gaze and stared out the window dejectedly. Whatever excitement he had felt in anticipation of reuniting with his parents was clearly dampened.

"Alice packed your chess set. She said it wasn't in the pile of toys that you had set aside to bring. You wanted it didn't you?" I said, trying to change the subject.

His eyes flickered back to mine. "No, it's yours, I was only borrowing it."

"Edward, I gave it to you, so that makes it yours."

His hand reached over feeling at the duffel bag on the seat. "Is it in here?"

"Yes I think so. It might be in one of the bags in the trunk, but I know I brought it."

Immediately Edward began unzipping the duffel bag, pulling it open as far as he could reach and his seatbelt would allow. He had a scowl on his face so I knew he wasn't concerned that it had been left behind…on the contrary.

Within moments his hands found the smooth cherry wood case filled with chess pieces, nestled in fine velvet to protect the hand painted finish. Because they no longer served exclusively as chess pieces safely contained on a chess board, they were a little worse for wear having received a fair share of minor nicks and scratches during their service in Edward's army. But the aesthetic quality of the pieces was hardly a consideration when compared to the hours of joy the inconspicuous chess set had brought to Edward over the course of the last several months.

It didn't surprise me when he put the case and the wood chess board on the floor in the back of the car, but his defiant attitude did. Granted his confidence had grown over the course of the last couple of months and with that we were given glimpses of the boy he would become, the head strong rather stubborn child that though always polite and conscientious, could become cantankerous when it suited him and he deemed the situation, safe from punishment. His surly attitude never extended to me or Jasper for that matter, but with the rest of the family he had no trouble expressing his feelings and opinions when he was encouraged to do so.

I took it as a validation that we were capable of mimicking humans so much so that we could care for one of their own and he could flourish under our guidance. His confidence was an affirmation that he was secure enough in his surroundings to defy us occasionally without suffering fears of retaliation or punishment. For Esme and Rosalie, it brought forth a snippet of pride that their little charge had a mind of his own and I too found the emergence of his personality gratifying.

But today it only brought me sadness as I suspected he was punishing me for not returning him to Esme and Rosalie for another drawn out round of goodbyes.

I'm not keeping it" he said abruptly when I failed to respond to his displacement of the chess set.

"I'm sorry to hear that. It won't get played with now. Maybe I'll give it to Emmett. Would that be alright with you?" I said diplomatically. Edward was staring at me again. He had slipped dangerously low in his seatbelt waiting for a reprimand, undoubtedly so he could ignore me but I was not concerned for his safety with me behind the wheel and I didn't comment not wanting our last moments together spent in conflict.

"Emmett doesn't like chess. He says it's dumb and he doesn't play army, not like Jasper. You should give it to Jasper."

"Is that what you want me to do?"

He glanced away than back, a hint of regret in his eyes. "Okay."

"It's your chess set, Edward. You can take it with you or give it to whoever you want."

"I'm not taking it with me. It might get broken or lost." Now Edward spoke regretfully, like he was remembering another time, another situation that spoke of the loss of a favored toy or treasure.

"Then I'll give it to Jasper and he'll keep it for you until you're older and can come back and get it." It had been on the tip of my tongue to tell him he could come for a visit but I knew that was not only inexcusable to say just as he was being returned to his parents; it was a blatant lie. He would not be visiting again and by the time he was of age, we would be gone.

"Okay. When I get older and more…responsible." He said more agreeably, his mood notably better.

And I knew why. He was already contemplating returning for a visit. He did not understand that he would never see us again. I caught my own pained expression in the review mirror and could not claim such ignorance.

The drive to Port Angeles was ridiculously short, hardly enough time for me to work out my goodbyes allowing myself to be distracted by Edward who had gotten over his disappointment of not saying one final goodbye to the family, now that he anticipated he would be seeing us again soon. He chatted about the school's pet snake, how it would be his turn to care for it next week and expressed regret that Emmett would not be there to share in the duties of reptile keeper.

Fortunately for Edward he would not have to move to another school. His parents would reside just within the city limits of Forks as ordered by the court and close to the Charlie Swan's home so Edward would even get to see his friend Bella again. His close proximity to us could still be an issue, not for him, we were well out of the city limits and the actual town of Forks offered little in the way of shopping for Alice so the odds of ever crossing paths with him was unlikely especially since we could smell him before he would ever see us.

But I had real concerns that Rosalie would not let it go, her animosity towards me had created an impenetrable wedge between us. She may and probably would visit him either as he slept or blatantly on the pretense of accidently running into him. I had to consider the possibility that we would have to leave Forks sooner than planned and would use that threat as leverage against Rosalie should she disobey me and attempt to remain in contact with him. She enjoyed Forks and would not be inclined to move again anytime soon.

"We're here Edward," I said feigning enthusiasm as I parked the car and turned in my seat to face him.

"We are? Is this where I'm going to live?" he said skeptically, looking out the window at the drab office building.

"No, son. This is a government building. Your social worker has her office here. Your parents are going to pick you up."

_So I won't know where they live_.

I quickly dialed her number and within moments the front door opened and the women that I had only met a few times emerged from the building smiling brightly. I suppose for her this was a triumphant day; the reuniting of a foster child with his parents. I would plaster on a fake smile and match her enthusiasm for a few moments ignoring the aching around the edges of the hole in my chest.

I quickly exited my car and busied myself with the luggage in the trunk as Edward struggled to pull the oversized duffle bag from the backseat.

"Here let me help you with that," Mrs. Grant said amicably, lifting the heavy bag onto her shoulder.

"It's all my stuff," Edward said a touch of pride in his voice.

"And so much stuff you have." She exclaimed, respectfully ignoring me. No doubt she had dealt with this exchange of custody many times, recognizing the range of emotions at play, one party devastated and the other joyous. She would know I wasn't in the mood for idyll chit chat.

I pulled two large suitcases from the trunk and looked at her expectantly.

"You can leave the suitcases here on the curb. I'm just going to put this in the entrance and bring Edward inside and I'll be back for them."

"I can take them in, that's not a problem. Unless..." My eyes flickered to Edward who was looking at me uncertainly.

"No…they're waiting in my office," Mrs. Grant answered solemnly reading my thoughts. "That would fine, there's a conference room right inside the door. You can say your goodbyes there."

_My goodbyes?_ Is that all that was left?

Once we were inside, the bags safely stashed in the empty room, she left us, understanding our need for privacy. Edward looked around nervously, no doubt feeling the first inking of anxiety; it would be the first time he would see his parents in almost two years.

"Are you going to stay?" he asked timidly as I settled into a rigid chair in the sparsely decorated room.

I shook my head slowly and held my arms out to him. Reluctantly he came to me and I lifted him up into my lap much as Esme often did. My relationship with Edward was usually not physical, he enjoyed that with the women in his life, but I could not deny myself the opportunity now that it would be my last and I pulled him to me kissing him on the side of the head.

"Have I told you how much I'm going to miss you, Edward." I whispered hoarsely, hardly able to form the words to speak.

"I think you might have mentioned it." He said shyly, but smiled slightly when I managed to chuckle at his contrived cheekiness.

I wanted to tell him how we would never forget him, how he had changed our lives, made us better people…almost human, how through all the years roaming this earth and all the considerable experiences we had lived through, none of it came close to influencing or affecting us as he had. But to tell him all that I would have to also say that this was goodbye, that we would never see him again, not ever and I couldn't do that; besides he was only seven, he could not be expected to understand.

"Be a good boy and I'll make sure that Jasper gets your chess set," I said gruffly, inhaling his scent one last time, understanding that I would never forget it, but unable to let it go, to become only a part of my memories for all time.

"Make sure you tell him it's still mine, not his."

I felt his arm circle my neck and felt his own warm lips on my cheek.

"I'll make sure he understands that it's yours."

Mrs. Grant cleared her throat. It was time to let go.

"Edward, your parents are upstairs in my office waiting for you. Are you ready?"

Abruptly he released his grip from my neck and I grudgingly let him go watching as his small hand slipped into hers that act alone reminding me of my devastated wife and wondering if she would be able to forgive me for all the pain I had caused her by letting us keep the child in the first place.

He turned as he was leaving and waved his free hand in my direction, smiling reassuringly, as if he were trying to comfort me in my grief, a grief he could not even begin to understand, but he said nothing more.

"Goodbye Edward," I mumbled as he disappeared out the door and it was only than that I noticed clenched in my hand, the small figure of a soldier on horseback, the knight from his chess set. I stared at it for a moment before stuffing it in my pocket, completely dumbfounded. How had he managed to place it in my hand without me even noticing?

Once behind the wheel of my car, I sat resolutely still for several moments trying to compose myself. If I stayed as I was I would undoubtedly be able to pick up the conversation between Edward and his parents; perhaps something in that conversation would ease my sorrow. But listening to his soft footsteps as he shuffled next to Mrs. Grant, I only heard her voice and it propelled me to reexamine my attempts to eavesdrop.

"Do you have a headache Edward?"

I put the car into drive and pulled out from the parking lot, not wanting to hear his reply.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

**_I know…I know…let me just say it for you. What the HELL happened! And no this is not where the Cullens abandon Edward…just a little bump in the road._**

**_Please don't hate Carlisle. He's just so damn...pragmatic._**

**_As for Edward, as sad as it is to say foster children seldom want to leave their abusive parents and will without fail welcome the opportunity to be returned to them._**

**_Reviews always appreciated. Thanks for reading._**


	11. Foster Kid

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**So sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. My personal life decided to pay me a visit and it's kept me pretty busy. ;o)**_

_**For those that are reading and reviewing, thank you. Please note that I try to respond to every review but something is wrong with the link that is provided by fanfiction and it doesn't always work. I'll send you a personal message if I can but if you haven't heard from me, please know it's a technical glitch; I'm not ignoring you.**_

* * *

Edward was hungry.

Not like _dig in the garbage can_ kind of hungry, but still hungry enough to have it on his mind as he played with his Legos, trying to build a spaceship like the one on the front cover of the Lego box. He was also lonely. He didn't think he was more lonely than hungry but it was something else that distracted him and kept him from assembling the spaceship using all the Lego pieces in the box.

He didn't realize how nice it was to have lots of people in the house until he came to live with his mom and dad again. They were only two people and though they didn't work or go to school, they didn't have a lot of time to play with him because they always had _company_.

He didn't really mind so much at first, because he was just happy to be with his real mom and dad and not be a _foster kid_ anymore. He was happy that they remembered him and even happier that they came back for him and said they were sorry they left him in the first place and _would he please forgive them_. And he had. He had forgiven them that very day in Mrs. Grant's office and after that nothing more was said about it.

At first everything was back to normal, even better than normal. He didn't have to eat alone anymore and though his mom didn't cook like Esme did and pile tons of food on his plate from all the different food groups, he got to eat a lot more of his favorites like hotdogs and macaroni and cheese and he didn't have to wait until everyone else was done eating before he got his share.

He also had his own bedroom and it wasn't in the basement or someone's office, it was his very own room with a real bed and a closet for his toys and a dresser for his clothes. He spent most of his time in his bedroom playing and it was at times like that that he wished he had someone to play with…someone like Emmett. He thought maybe his dad would play with him like Emmett did, but his dad was like Carlisle, a _grown man_ with _responsibilities_ and he didn't play kid's games. True, Emmett looked like a _grown man,_ but he was still one of Carlisle's children and was still in high school so just because he looked like one didn't mean he was one.

He wished he had brought the chess set with him, because chess was something grownups played and he thought it would be a good way to _break the ice_ with his dad, but when he mentioned it, his dad told him he didn't know how to play chess so it didn't matter anyway.

There were some things that _right off the bat_ he noticed were different from when he lived with the Cullens, some things he remembered about living with his parents from the last time, but had forgotten about after they went away.

First, it was his _responsibility_ to get himself up in the morning for school. He didn't think he had to do that before, but couldn't remember for sure. Karen always got him and his _foster _brothers up for school and when he moved in with the Cullens, Esme or Carlisle would wake him up. But now he had no one and after he had missed the bus _three days in a row_ and Mrs. Grant came to check up on him, his mom showed him how to set the alarm on his clock and told him it was his _responsibility_ to do it every day and if he didn't they would all _get in trouble_. He didn't want anyone to _get in trouble_ so he always remembered and he always got up.

Picking out what clothes he was going to wear was another problem…a big problem. When he was with George and Karen, he didn't have many choices. He only had one pair of tennis shoes and three pair of jeans and a couple of shirts so getting dressed was easy and the only hard thing was finding something clean to wear and not wearing the same thing every day.

With the Cullens, he had lots to chose from but Alice always picked out his clothes the night before and laid them out for him so he had no trouble deciding what to wear and if he didn't want to wear what she picked out, Esme helped him pick something else out when Alice left for school.

But now he still had lots of clothes and no one was around to help him pick something out so he spent a lot of time deciding what to wear. The good thing was that he had a lot of time in the morning to get ready for the school bus. He wasn't allowed to turn on the TV because that might wake someone up and he usually only had toast in the morning so eating didn't take up much time. He couldn't get too involved in playing because he might miss his bus, so he would spend most of his time deciding what to wear and the rest of his time sitting on the front step eating his toast and waiting for the bus so he wouldn't miss it.

Other than that, Edward thought that living with his mom and dad was pretty darn good and though things weren't perfect, they were a lot better than he remembered. But after a couple of weeks of everything being happy and normal, things changed and went back to the way they _used to be_. He wasn't sure why it happened or how he could remember how it _used to be_ since that was a long long time ago, but after a couple of weeks he knew that living with his real mom and dad wasn't all that it was _cracked up to be_.

No one really ever hit him or yelled at him too much so it was nothing like living with Geroge and Karen, but somewhere along the way he started avoiding being around his parents, mostly his dad because he would get a weird look in his eye and talk funny and that made Edward _uncomfortable_.

Pretty soon his mom stopped making him dinner and no one ate with him anymore so he had to scrounge for food, like he was digging in a garbage can but this time he was digging in his own refrigerator or the cupboards. When he stopped finding things to eat besides chips or ketchup and mustard, he was told he would have to wait until his dad _got paid_ so they could go grocery shopping again.

His dad didn't _get paid_ very often, so they never had much food and when they did buy groceries he had to make sure he got as much as he could before everyone else ate it all; and by everyone else he didn't mean his mom and dad but all the other people that were always coming over, especially at night to watch TV and make stuff in the garage.

He wasn't allowed in the garage and the one and only time he got spanked by his dad since he came back was when he went in the garage anyway to see what was going on. It stunk in the garage and he wouldn't have gone in there again, even he hadn't been spanked. He didn't know what it was that was so stinky but it made his nose burn and his eyes water and it looked like a mad scientist lab with glass tubes and bottles everywhere.

His mom told him it was his dad's _job_ and how he _got_ _paid_ which didn't make a lot of sense unless his dad was a scientist and if he was a scientist, he didn't know what a scientist had to do to _get paid_ and he didn't ask.

"Eddie…hey Eddie."

He stopped playing with his Legos and listened. He wasn't sure who called him or even if he was being called at all. His dad had the same name as he did, though most people called him Ed. It was confusing with all the _company _always at the house and only after making the mistake of running out of his room over and over again, did he finally realize that most of the time no one was calling him or even talking about him.

"Eddie, come here, kid."

That was _definitely_ his dad's voice and he was _definitely_ being called.

Cautiously, he opened his bedroom door and peeked out. He could hear the voices of the adults in the other room. They all sounded funny; not _ha ha_ funny, but sort of like George did when he was drinking. He also noticed the smell. It wasn't as bad as it had been in the garage but it still burned his nose a little.

"What?" he muttered loudly enough that he hoped his dad would hear him.

"Come here Eddie, I need you to do something for me." His dad laughed a little and then someone else did and it wasn't a nice laugh, it was sort of a peculiar laugh.

He walked down the hall sliding his hand along the wall and turned the corner ready to run if there was anything scary happening in the living room, but as usual, he _overreacted_. Everyone was just sitting around on the couches, his mom and dad and two of his dad's friends whose names he couldn't remember and a nice lady named Trisha and another lady that never said one word to him, but he thought her name was Abbey.

"Well it's about time," one of the men whose name he didn't know said when he saw Edward. "You should get one of those couches with a cooler in the middle of it so we don't have to wait for your kid."

"Yeah dude that's a good idea, but who's going to keep in full?" his dad snorted, then pointed at Edward.

"You…go get us some beers…and don't drink any on the way back." He laughed again….a cackling laugh like he just said the funniest thing in the world.

Edward tried to laugh too but it really didn't sound very funny. He didn't mind getting beer for his dad, but he felt _anxious_ around the others and wished they would go home.

The refrigerator didn't have a lot of food, but it did have a lot of beer so finding it wasn't a problem. He carried three cans out figuring only the men would want it but he could always go back if he needed too.

When he offered them to his dad, he took one but pointed to the others. "Give them their own damn beer; I ain't no waitress."

His dad was holding a glass tube and was looking at him like he wasn't really seeing him. Edward didn't like it…he didn't like it at all.

The second man on the couch by his dad took the beer and smiled a big huge smile and Edward shuddered a little. The man had icky teeth, like they hadn't been brushed in a long long time. He was glad he seemed too tired to do more than take the beer from his hand, because Edward was pretty sure he wasn't very nice and might try to hurt him if he did anything wrong.

The third man had a scruffy red beard and was sitting in a chair with his eyes half closed not moving at all so Edward just put the beer on the table next to him and turned to leave before anyone decided he needed to do something else for them.

"Oh Edward baby, come give your mommy a hug."

But Edward didn't want to give his mommy a hug; he wanted to get out of that room as fast as possible. He didn't like the way the adults were acting. True, it wasn't like when he was with the Cullens and they got black eyes and looked like they wanted to eat him. This feeling was different, not scary exactly, but more _uncomfortable_, like something wasn't quite right with his mom and dad. Like they weren't really aware of what was going on.

"Baby boy what's wrong, don't you miss your mommy, don't you love me?"

He looked at his mom and noticed that she hadn't changed her clothes from the day before and though he knew she didn't have as many clothes as he did, he also knew that she should have more than one set of clothes to wear so she should be able to change more often than that.

"How did you produce such a cute kid, Lizzy," Trisha said tapping her hands on her knees to encourage him to come to her. "He's so kissable. Are you sure Ed's the papa?"

"Hey, I heard that, bitch," his dad said, but he was laughing so Edward didn't get too worried that he had just called that lady a _bitch_ which as far as he knew was not a nice thing to say.

He slowly went to where his mom was sitting hoping she might forget he was there like she usually did when she was in one of those moods, but this time her eyes opened wide like she was trying to focus on him and she reached out and pulled him into her lap before he could squirm away, plying him with kisses and hugging him until he could hardly breath.

"Oh Eddie…I missed you so much. Goddamn social services, always trying to steal you away from me…but we got ya back didn't we….didn't we…didn't we?"

With each _didn't we_, she tried to tickle him but it felt more like a pinch and though he nodded to show he was listening, it didn't stop him from trying to get away so he could go back and play Legos and leave the adults _in peace_.

"Oh you want to go down…such a big boy…too big for mommy's kisses ain't ya?" She sighed, kissed him one more time, a big wet kiss that missed his cheek and landed in his hair and when she let him go, he sort of wasn't expecting it and fell on the floor which made everyone hoot with laughter but him.

"Hey little Eddie, come on over here, I got something for ya," the man with the bad teeth said and Edward could see he was holding out a little glass tube. He stood up and took a step toward the man. He didn't trust him but he was curious what it was about that piece of glass that was so interesting.

"Naw, come on don't be doin' that," his dad said, sounding a little bit like a dad should when he wasn't snickering.

"Ahh…give him a taste, it'd be funny to see a kid high."

Edward didn't know what _high_ meant but if it would be funny he guessed he wouldn't want to do it. Funny for them didn't mean it would be funny for him. He stopped in his tracks and shook his head.

"Good boy…see that's my baby, not stupid like his old man." His mom giggled to show she was just kidding, but his dad wasn't paying attention anyway. He had the piece of glass in his mouth puffing on it like a cigarette and was leaning back against the couch with his eyes closed and every once in a while a puff of smoke would swirl out around his lips.

"Hey, kitten, get over here; all this baby talk is making me horny," the man with the red beard who Edward thought might be sleeping said.

Edward didn't know who_ kitten_ was until Abbey got up and went to sit on the man's lap, giving him kisses like his mom did to him but on his mouth instead of all over his face.

"What's horny?" he asked without thinking and cringed when the entire room erupted in laughter.

"I'm horny, that's what's horny," the man with the red beard said growling a little, but it sounded more like a fake growl; not a real one the way Carlisle did it when he was trying to be scary.

He was tickling Abbey all over her body, but just like when Edward's mom did it to him, she wasn't laughing and instead she was groaning a little like it might hurt, but she was still kissing him on the mouth.

"Baby…get your momma that pipe before daddy takes it all."

Edward didn't see any pipe, he just saw the piece of glass that looked like a cigarette.

He looked back at his mom who had her eyes closed. "What pipe momma?"

She opened them and looked at his dad. "Ed, give me some."

That's when Edward figured she was talking about the cigarette thing. He took it from his father's mouth and handed it to her. His nose burned. Whatever it was, whatever they were doing, it didn't smell very good.

"Thanks baby, now go in your room."

"I'm hungry." He hadn't meant to mention it, because it looked like she had enough on her mind, but at that moment his stomach let out a big _I'm hungry_ growl.

"Ahhhh, he's hungry...feed the little bugger…he's still on the tit…ain't he?"

Edward felt his ears burn. He didn't know exactly what that meant but he knew that _tit_ was a _private part _ and shouldn't be talked about in _public_. He ignored the snickers and concentrated on his mom who didn't seem to think that comment was too funny either by the way she was glaring at the man with the dirty teeth.

"You're a pig," his mother spat at the man and Edward felt a little better.

"Oh Lizzy lighten up, he was only giving the kid some shit," his dad said, taking several long gulps from his beer. "Edward, don't be such a baby. You can get yourself something to eat."

Edward ignored his dad who in that state wasn't much good for anything but telling Edward to get him another beer. Instead he stared imploringly at his mother who was concentrating more on the pipe in her mouth and the lighter in her hand and less on him.

"There's nothing to eat."

"Momma's busy honey. Go be good and play in room. I'll find ya something to eat later."

Edward folded his arms against his chest and without another word stomped out of the room. He wanted to tell her that Esme wouldn't let him starve to death and Rosalie wouldn't let those icky men say bad things about him, but he didn't think it mattered or would do much good. They didn't seem too interested in him now that they had him and he had only himself to blame for that.

But there was a way to fix it and make things right again and the only one that could do that was him. So even if he was only seven years old he would have to take _matters into his own hands_, because he had made a mistake, a bad mistake and he had to fix it before it was too late.

* * *

The backpack was heavy; so heavy that Edward couldn't even wear it like a real backpack and had to drag it on the ground most of the time. It was so full of stuff that he couldn't even carry his school books in it and that _drew suspicion_ right away from his teacher, Miss Woods. But he was ready for her questions and after at first looking doubtful, she eventually believed him when he said he was going for a sleepover and needed all his stuff with him. It wasn't a complete lie, he was going for a sleepover alright, he just didn't say where or for how long.

He was a little disappointed that he could only fit a couple of pair of jeans, his Seahawks jersey, two sweatshirts, a T-shirt, three Lego sets, his Harry Potter books and an extra pair of tennis shoes in the backpack, but there was nothing he could do about the closet full of stuff still at home. He couldn't carry a suitcase onto the school bus, because that might _draw attention_ and he couldn't ask his mom and dad to drive him to the Cullens after school, because they didn't have a car that _started_. His dad worked on it during the day but since Edward had moved in, the car hadn't been _started_ once.

With the final school bell, Edward dragged his backpack out to the line of school buses ignoring bus number eleven which would bring him back to his mom and dad's house and instead making his way to bus eighty-five which would bring him to the Cullens.

He hadn't forgotten the bus number because Emmet had told him it was Rosalie's age which was pretty funny. Rosalie wasn't eighty-five years old even if she did look too old to be a kid, but that number stuck with him and when he finally made his way to the bus, the bus driver was Mr. Romero who recognized him right away, so he knew he remembered right.

"Hello, Mr. Masen. What brings you to my bus?" the man who looked like he could be eight-five asked pleasantly.

Edward liked Mr. Romero more than he liked the driver of bus eleven whose name he never bothered to learn.

"I'm going to the Cullens' house and this is the bus that gets me there," Edward said in his _most serious_ voice.

"You are? But I thought you moved into town?"

"The Cullens are babysitting me tonight. He lifted the backpack up and put it on the top step. If Mr. Romero wanted to look inside he would see clothes and some toys and all the stuff that _confirmed_ his story. "See, I'm all packed to stay overnight."

"Do you have a permission slip?" Mr. Romero was looking over Edward's shoulder; he guessed to see if there were any teachers around to _verify_ if what Edward said was true.

"No one told me I needed one." Edward tried to keep his voice steady, but he felt a panicky feeling in his chest. He would only get one chance. "They're expecting me; I don't want to be late. They pick me up at the end of the driveway."

Mr. Romero nodded. Of course he would remember, it had only been a month since he moved in with his real mom and dad. "Okay, I guess if they're waiting for you, I can ask them."

Edward should have probably been even more panicked by that comment. He had decided just the night before that he wasn't going to stay with his real parents anymore. There would be no way that Carlisle or Esme would know he was coming, but then he reminded himself that the Cullens always seemed to know things that most people didn't and if they lived up to _expectations,_ this would be no different. He could expect Carlisle to be waiting for him at the end of the driveway just like he always did before Edward went to live with his real mom and dad.

He held his breath until the bus pulled away from the curb and turned south towards the Cullens' home. He always sat in the front of the bus, partly because he liked Mr. Romero and partly because his former _foster_ brother, Eric rode the same bus and he didn't want any _confrontations_ with Eric who usually pretended he didn't know him now that they didn't share a house anymore.

He was a little nervous that his plan wouldn't work or that things wouldn't turn out like he imagined they would which happened to him a lot when he got his _expectations_ up. He kept trying to imagine how the reunion would go but it was hard to know given his _abrupt_ arrival. Would they miss him and be happy to see him? Would they be mad at him for wanting to leave in the first place? Or maybe they would realize now that he had been gone for awhile, that it was nice not having a seven year old kid around anymore.

He tried not to think about the last one, because that was a _real possibility_. He knew he was a lot more trouble than he was worth and he couldn't think of a single good reason why they would want him back when there were so many other kids out there that needed homes. He thought about his bike and wondered if they gave it away to another little kid and he thought about his chess set and wondered if Jasper had it and had played with it since he left, but most of all he wondered why he didn't realize that being a _foster kid_ with the Cullens was better than being a _real kid _with his mom and dad.

The bus had a lot of stops before his stop and he had a lot of time to think and worry about what would happen when he finally got to the Cullen house not least of which was whether they would lie and tell Mr. Romero that he was spending the night, just like he said. But when he looked out the window as they approached the Cullen driveway he didn't see any black shiny car waiting for him; no one was there to pick him up and when his eyes locked in the mirror with Mr. Romero's, he knew he was going to get in big trouble for this little _escapade_.

"I can't let you off the bus if no one is here to pick you up," Mr. Romero said, like he was giving Edward the _benefit of the doubt_ but making an excuse why he couldn't just leave him there with no one's permission.

"We're early…aren't we? I think we're early…they'll be here." Edward whispered, trying to come up with _a plan_ before the bus started up again.

"We're a little early. I'll wait a few minutes, but usually they're waiting for us." The bus driver glanced at his watch and then at the three other kids on the bus.

And then just like it was when Edward imagined it, he saw flashes of Carlisle's car through the trees winding down the driveway, stopping right by the road where it always did.

"See I told you," Edward said like there was no doubt in his mind that Carlisle would show up.

Mr. Romero grunted and opened the door of the school bus as Edward dragged his backpack from under the seat and down the steps of the bus as quickly as he could. He didn't want to give Carlisle or Mr. Romero any time to change their mind.

He knew from experience that Carlisle wouldn't get out of the car with the sun shining. It had something to do with his sparkly skin and not wanting Mr. Romero and the little kids left on the bus to get that creepy feeling like he got the first time he saw Esme sparkling in the sun, so he didn't expect any help with his heavy backpack that he tried to carry without dragging it around the front of the bus and to the passenger side of the door.

He was relieved when the window rolled down and Carlisle stuck his hand out giving the bus driver a quick wave to let him know it was okay to leave Edward with him. Carlisle was pretty smart that way and he would know without Edward even having to tell him to do that.

He sighed when he heard the bus pull away, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and suddenly the backpack didn't seem that heavy; he hardly had any trouble at all opening the car door and lifting it up onto the backseat.

Edward was surprised to see that Esme was in the car too; they never picked him up at the end of the driveway together, so then it occurred to him that maybe it was just a _coincidence_ that they were at the end of the driveway at all and he got the fluttery feeling in his stomach that he got every time he was _anxious_. But Carlisle had waved at the bus driver and the bus had left, so it wouldn't make sense that they would let the bus leave if they didn't want him to stay there.

"Did you get on the wrong bus, Edward?" Carlisle questioned without looking back at him. His voice sounded gruff, like maybe he wasn't all that happy to see him.

When he didn't answer, Esme who was looking at him almost sadly, but not like she was mad, reached back and squeezed his knee.

"It's alright sweetie. Were you coming by for a visit?" she asked softly, her eyes flickering to Carlisle like they were _sharing a look_.

It was one of those moments where Edward wasn't sure if he should tell the truth or not. He sort of imagined that when they saw him they would hug him and kiss him and tell him right off how much they missed him and they were glad he was back, but he knew that was _unreasonable. _They would want an _explanation _first. They couldn't get too excited if they didn't know why he just suddenly showed up. He decided he would just tell the truth because it would just be easier in the long run.

"I wasn't coming for a visit, I want to stay here. Did you get rid of all my things? I couldn't bring everything in just a backpack."

It didn't escape his notice that Carlisle wasn't just turning the car around; he was pulling out onto the road…onto the road back towards school, back towards town and back towards his mom and dad's house.

"Put your seatbelt on, Edward," Carlisle said in that same strange serious voice which just confirmed that he wasn't happy to see him. That fluttering feeling in his stomach got worse.

"Does your mommy and daddy know where you are?" Esme asked.

He nodded his head and when he saw her eyebrow go up, he explained. "I left a letter in my best _penmanship_ and told them I was coming back here and would visit them. I like living with you, better."

"Oh sweetie, I don't think they would be too happy with just visits. I think they would be very sad to find you gone. I know I would be."

Edward smiled a little at that. It made him feel a little better that maybe it wasn't that the Cullens didn't want him, but they were just worried about how his parents would feel now that he was gone. He just had to explain the situation. His parents wouldn't miss him, he was sure of that. They might not even know he was gone for a few days, so that would give him plenty of time to _settle in_.

"No, they won't miss me. They have too much _compan_y. We can go back for a visit on the weekend," he said diplomatically.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. We'll go have a talk with them."

"No, it wasn't a _misunderstanding_. They have too much _company_ to have a kid. They only have time for _visits_." He didn't mean to sound grouchy but he knew that's how it came out. It was one thing if the Cullens didn't want him anymore, but so far he didn't get that _impression_. So far he thought this was all about his mom and dad and whether they would miss him and he knew the answer to that already.

"Edward, you need to put on your seatbelt; I'm sure this can all be worked out, but we can't keep you, your parents want you, we have to take you ba…"

"NO!" Edward interrupted Carlisle, defiantly kicking the back of his seat for _emphasis_. Why couldn't adults ever listen? They could never listen. They always thought they knew what was best for little kids like him but they always got it wrong.

"Edward, please sweetie. It's not that we don't want you back, but kids should be with their parents first, that's what the law says and we can't break the law."

At least Esme appeared sad that she couldn't _break the law_ and maybe he had some sympathy for that. He wouldn't want anyone to get in trouble because of him. But if they really wanted him, they would listen and understand that no one was going to call any policeman. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he did.

"I don't want to go back," he said trying to control the tone of his voice. Then, realizing Esme's weakness for food, he tried a different tactic. "I'm hungry."

"Are you not getting enough to eat, sweetie,"

"No, it's not like when you cook." He felt a little better. He knew Esme always worried that he didn't get enough to eat. She wouldn't make him go back if she thought that they weren't taking care of him. He saw her glance at Carlisle, like Carlisle said something _under his breath_.

"We'll go and talk to them and find out what's going on. Carlisle is right. As much as we want you to stay with us, we can't just keep you without telling someone where you are."

"Esme."

Edward definitely heard Carlisle that time, but she ignored him and gave his knee a squeeze again. "Now, please sweetie, put your seat belt on and we'll work this all out when we get you home."

_Home._

It was the way she said it that made him realize they were just trying to make him feel better. They weren't taking him home, back to their house, they were taking him home to his mom and dad's house that smelled funny and had a lot of _company_ almost all the time. But he wasn't going to put on his seatbelt and he wasn't going to go to that _home_.

He guessed they hadn't gone that far down the road; it wasn't so far that he couldn't walk from there and once he found Emmett he was pretty sure that Emmett would be on his side and not make him go to that other home. Emmett was like that, always seeing things the way Edward saw them. It was one of the things that made it easy to forget that Emmett was almost a grownup. Emmett had _common sense_.

He guessed if he thought about it harder he would realize he wasn't showing much _common sense_ himself when he pushed the backpack out of the way and climbed across the seat to the door behind Esme, the door closest to the side of the road. He managed to get the door open, before anyone noticed what he was doing and he even had time to think about how the ground was moving pretty darn fast, even if it didn't seem like it when he was just sitting staring out the window, but he was already _committed_ to his _plan_ so he figured he'd just take his chances.

He thought he heard Carlisle say his name and then he felt familiar arms around him, the arms that he used to like climbing into even if they were cold and hard. Before he could even think about what it meant, he was sitting in Esme's lap, still in the backseat, but no longer ready to jump out of the moving car. He didn't listen to what Esme was saying to him as she ran her fingers through his hair and he didn't try to pay attention when Carlisle asked him a question.

He would only get one chance and he knew that from the moment he climbed onto bus eight-five. Once they brought him back home to his real mom and dad, he wouldn't be able to tell a lie to Miss Woods or Mr. Romero again and he would never find the Cullen house on his own. One chance was all he had.

So he fought. With everything he had he fought and struggled and kicked trying to break free of Esme's arms so he could open the door and jump out the of the car and find Emmett who would understand. And it wasn't like he meant to kick at Esme or hurt her, but she was keeping him from his _plan_, keeping him from going home and even if Carlisle was driving the car, it was she that kept him from escaping.

"Edward, please sweetie, please stop, you'll hurt yourself," Esme whispered in his ear.

He might have argued with her, might have told her that she was the one that might be hurt, but she was so hard, so strong and no matter how much he kicked, it was his foot that hurt, hurt enough so that he cried out until finally she wrapped him up in a little ball and then he couldn't kick or fight anymore, he couldn't even move, not an inch, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

"That's it Carlisle, take us home."

"Esme, we can't keep him."

"I'm not doing this too him, I'm not sending him back. You need to fix this Carlisle. I don't care what you do, I don't care how you do it, but you need to fix this. He's not going back."

Edward heard her, heard every word but he didn't stop struggling. He didn't want Carlisle to think he had _given up_, because then he might just keep on driving. He wouldn't have an excuse to turn around. But it was hard to kick at Esme when she was whispering in his ear, telling him she wasn't going to send him back and he didn't have to fight her anymore.

Through Esme's embrace, he saw Carlisle make a U-turn in the middle of the road. He wondered if he was mad at him. He didn't look mad. He could see his eyes in the mirror and they were still sparkly gold, not black so at least that was a good thing. He was talking to Esme, Edward could see his lips moving but he couldn't really hear him, not clearly, it sounded like he was humming. But with his head pressed against Esme's shoulder, he could hear her a little better, not the words, but the sounds and she was angry and he liked it because for the first time in his whole entire life he felt like he was worthy enough to fight for.

He didn't remember the exact moment when he stopped trying to kick free of Esme; maybe it was when Esme said she wasn't giving him back and Carlisle would just have to _fix it_ or maybe it was when she started giving him kisses on his forehead, kisses not unlike when his mom did but these were different, they seemed real, not like she was _putting on a show_ or doing what she thought moms were suppose to do to their little boys.

When he stopped fighting, he felt her arms release him and he knew why, knew that she was worried he would get too cold in her arms so she never held him for a lot of time in a row. But this time he wanted to be held and he didn't care how cold her arms were or that goose bumps broke out on his skin; this time he couldn't get enough of having Esme's arms around him, because if she held him like that it must mean she wanted him.

So he wrapped his arms around her neck and buried his face into her shoulder and tried not to cry like a baby and then he felt her arms around him again holding him just like he thought a mother should hold her son when she hadn't seen him in a long long time and he was pretty sure right at that moment that Carlisle would _fix it_ with his parents, because he thought Esme was going to keep him no matter what.

* * *

**_Author Notes:_**

**_Say goodbye to seven year old Edward._**

**_The next chapter will be from seventeen year old Edward's POV then I'll be exploring different periods in Edward's adolescence and Bella will become more of a focal point._**

**_If you aren't clear what happened in these last two chapters, lets just say I wanted to tie up some loose strings with regard to Edward's parents. Though not necessarily physically abusive, they were neglectful and involved in illegal activities. The garage was a meth lab and the source of income was drug dealing, hence all the "company" that Edward was so uncomfortable around. _**

_**Comments always welcomed and appreciated.**_


	12. Change Is Coming

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: This is an angsty chapter. I should also mention for anyone with disabilities, please understand that the opinions expressed in this chapter are not mine, but that of fictional characters and be forewarned that their views are not inspirational.**_

_**You'll get some answers to your questions in this chapter but unfortunately you will probably have new questions.**_

_**Just a reminder we are flashing forward again. Edward is on a ventilator so that makes speaking difficult for him and I'm sorry he is not pausing naturally with the flow of the sentence, but when he runs out of air, he runs out of air and he has to wait for the ventilator to catch up.**_

_"He's an old colleague of mine and I asked him. Medicaid will pay the standard physician costs and he is paying his own expenses. You are doing it as much for him as he is for you. Surgeries such as this are quite rare. Most patients don't live…well…we seldom get to the point of performing surgery on patients with a C1-C2 fracture. Any doctor would appreciate the opportunity to get more experience in surgery especially when it's so rare, but I don't want you to think this is some kind of experimental surgery. He is the best there is, that's why he's coming. It's my job to make sure that you get the best care possible and stepping aside for him is my way of doing that._

_I thought about telling Doctor Carthage that it would be a-okay with me if he did the surgery himself. Given the alternative, dying on the operating table seemed like a good opportunity to escape from this nightmare, but the decision had been made; I could see it in his face and the faces of my team. Besides, the surgery would be performed by the most experienced doctor available and still my odds would only be fifty-fifty. There was always hope._

* * *

_**Edward's POV**_

Shock wasn't a strong enough word to describe the look on his face as he walked into the pre-op followed by Doctor Carthage

_Anguish._

_Despondency._

_Horror._

None of those words quite conveyed the expression frozen on his flawless features either; or perhaps they conveyed it only too well as it was the first words that registered with me when my eyes locked with his for only a moment before I closed mine, reluctant to be drawn into their depths, knowing only too well that he would see the extent of my torment and unwilling to show any weakness in light of my fragile physical condition.

I should have been deviously overjoyed that he could see me as I was now, lying helpless in that hospital bed kept alive only by machines, my body nothing more than a receptacle for the blood that continued to flow through my veins feeding life into the organs that barely sustained my body. But perhaps overjoyed was too much to ask for, perhaps I could suffice with a feeling of satisfaction that, through no conscious effort on my part, I'd rebelled against all they had hoped for me, my future now destroyed, my life for all intents and purposes over; their abandonment in hindsight, was all for not.

But no matter how I might wish it to be something other than what it was, the only emotion that I was cognizant of in those first few seconds when my eyes locked with Carlisle's was despair and a tremendous almost overwhelming wave of grief.

Carlisle was the surgeon that Doctor Carthage had touted as my potential savior. I needed no one to tell me that. He was dressed in scrubs, undoubtedly the chart he held in his hand was mine. I'd already been administered a sedative and where briefly I felt it's effects and welcomed the chance to drift away, trying not to reflect that I might be facing the last hours of my life; a rush of adrenalin suddenly shot through my body and my heart raced. It would take a horse tranquilizer to knock me out now.

I opened my eyes again.

Carlisle was no closer. He had stopped abruptly upon entering my room, his hand holding my chart had dropped to his side. For the first time in all the years I'd known Carlisle, I thought he looked old…ancient even. I might have been projecting wrinkles across his face and around his eyes and mouth as I envisioned where they would be, but one only had to look at his eyes and his true age was obvious.

"Dr Cullen, is something wrong?" Doctor Carthage asked confused by Carlisle's disinclination to start the pre-op exam.

Carlisle nodded, then surprised me by replying candidly. "I know him. I know this patient."

"What? Oh shit," Doctor Carthage said interpreting and rightly so, how this would impact the forthcoming surgery. "How well…are we going to need to cancel…?"

"Give me a moment with him, please…a moment alone," Carlisle said hoarsely, stepping forward.

Doctor Carthage reached out and grabbed his arm, but Carlisle didn't take his eyes off of me. He wasn't making eye contact any longer; instead his gaze flickered to the machines that surrounded me, to the shape of my body under the blankets that covered me…several blankets as my body was overcome with a fit of chills, another symptom of my injury, the inability to regulate body temperature. He was transfixed by the scene before him so much so that he barely acknowledged Doctor Carthage's persistent questioning, waving his hand in an offhanded way, indicating he should leave us for a moment of privacy.

"Doctor you can't operate if you're related to him."

Those words _did_ resonate with Carlisle who finally turned toward his colleague providing me only a view of his back. It wasn't hard to construe what Carlisle was doing; the posture of his body was like a leopard ready to spring. Doctor Carthage took a step back, instinctually recognizing Carlisle for the predator he was. A shadow of fear crossed his face.

"I'm not related to him. I know him…he's a friend of my children. Let me assure you Doctor that my relationship with him will in no way jeopardize the surgery today, but I would like to have a chat with him privately to make sure the he is completely informed of his options." Then Carlisle sighed, perhaps understanding he exposed too much. His body slowly relaxed, his posture retained a more human slouch and he reached out and touched the other doctor's elbow. "Surely you understand?"

"Of course Doctor Cullen, just let us know when you are ready," Doctor Carthage said graciously, slipping out the room as quickly as he could.

I closed my eyes again. I only heard Carlisle approach the bed because I was listening for him and then it was just the slight rustle of fabric. His footsteps were silent.

"You scared…him," I said softly, suddenly self conscious of what I could only surmise was my hideous condition, trapped in a hospital bed for several days, helpless as a newborn baby, screws embedded in my skull. I wanted to curl into myself, hide from him. But I couldn't move. I couldn't even change positions. I laid as the nurse had left me, flat on my back, my neck pulled taut by the weight of the traction. "I don't think…you have to…worry about him calling…you again anytime…soon even if you are…one of the _best…surgeons in the country_. Pity the next guy…that breaks his neck…he won't have…the great Doctor Cullen…"

"Edward stop."

I opened my eyes. I was staring at the top of his bowed head as he leaned over me bracing himself against the bed rail.

"I know it's hard… to believe but I… didn't plan to…jump of that cliff… break my neck and need a surgery… that very few surgeons… in the country could… even perform just to…get you back into…my life. I know it seems…that way but…it was just a…coincidence…honest."

Carlisle usually tolerated my sarcasm, but apparently I caught him at a bad moment because when he looked up abruptly his gaze was so intense I couldn't escape its scrutiny and it had nothing to do with being completely immobilized. Even my eyelids refused to obey my command to close and I couldn't look away as his ochre colored eyes bore into mine.

"How did this…why didn't you have someone contact me? The phone number…I never got a call."

I ignored Carlisle's bewilderment. It was unsettling. "Oh I think…it would take more…than a broken…neck to make…that call. What did I…say before you…left? Something about…a cold day… in hell or hell…freezing over…something…like that. Yeah that hasn't…happened yet, so…not sure why you…would expect a…fucking phone call."

"Edward this is serious. I don't…"

"Serious? Really? Serious?" I tried to sound incredulous but the ventilator was interfering with my ability to impart my smart-assed rhetoric. "What makes…you say…that. This is perfect…fucking wonderful. Simply…fucking…fantastic. I couldn't think…of a better outcome… to my fucked up life… than this. I couldn't have…written a more fitting…ending.

Carlisle held up his hand to deflect the impact of my words, but I was on a roll.

"And the beauty of it…you don't …even have to pay…I can live…the rest…of my life…as short as…that…may be….in a bed…in a fucking…nursing home….and you don't even…have to pay….fucking perfect."

I was fluctuating between bitter resentment and an overwhelming urge to burst into tears, feeling the first telltale prickling behind my eyes threatening to open the floodgate of emotions that I so desperately wanted to keep hidden from him. Still, try as I might, I could not look away, his gaze was mesmerizing; but beyond his penetrating stare I saw the struggle, the conflicting emotions drift across his face as undoubtedly he was taking everything in and quickly absorbing the situation so he could rectify it.

"You knew…I was here?" I said, but it came out as a question. I knew of his enhanced sense of smell, but I was never given privy to the complete extent of his abilities and only surmised what he was capable of.

"I knew you were in the hospital. Beyond that…nothing. They didn't give me your name when I was called in for the surgery," he replied mechanically. "I was worried…your scent was fresh, but I didn't know, would never have imagined…"

"Would you have…tried to find me…find out what…was wrong with me…or would you have…done the surgery…and left without…ever knowing…why I was in…the hospital." I was taunting him but only to avoid the conversation that surely had him dismissing my doctor from the room. I didn't want to hear from his lips how he would not be able to save me. How my injury was so severe that even his superior skills could not keep me from dying beneath his scalpel.

"You don't know how sorry I am that you have to ask that question." Carlisle sighed and broke our gaze once again bowing his head over me in anticipation for what he was about to say.

For my part, I felt guilt and with that came anger. It was he that left me, not the other way around. I had to remind myself of that. Still, his pain was palpable and it was impossible to ignore. He hadn't left me…they hadn't left me because they didn't care…I knew that; I always knew it, but it made it harder for me to hate them so it was something I tried to forget.

"Edward, I..."

"You don't have…to say it. I know. I've been…informed of the risk. I won't blame you…if you decide…to back out. It's…well I don't expect…" my voice quivered. If I cried it would be impossible to talk. "I don't expect…you to do the surgery...I know my odds…aren't good…I wouldn't…put you through…that."

"Edward…Edward..." Carlisle had raised his head and moved closer hovering directly over me…a strange intensity glistened in his eyes. "If there was hope….any hope you'd recover it would be different. The risk…it would be worth taking. But even if the surgery is a success, it won't cure you, you won't walk again. The surgery will only stabilize your spine and neck and perhaps allow you to move your head but the risk…the risk is too much."

It took me a moment to realize Carlisle was gripping my arm. I couldn't feel it, but I saw that his hand no longer held the bedrail and my eyes followed the length of his arm until I saw his hand, there near my shoulder. For the first time in all our years together his arctic touch did not cause any reaction in my body at all. I couldn't feel it, but the visual attempt to connect with me had engrossed me all the same.

When he noticed the direction of my gaze, his momentary faux pas was brought to an immediate end and he released my arm, redirecting his hand to my face, the bone chilling cold from his flesh a familiar and comforting reminder that he really was standing next to me, even if his re-admittance into my life hadn't exactly been his choice.

"I understand…no need to…explain…I understand." I had not been expecting him to concur so quickly with my pronouncement that my condition was hopeless. I thought he would argue and try to convince me that there might be another option. Carlisle was if nothing else, an optimist. His resignation to the futility of my situation was disheartening even if it was something I told myself I wanted. I couldn't do it to him. I couldn't die at his hand. He would blame himself. I knew him too well not to understand that.

"Don't tell Esme. You don't have…to tell her," I whispered.

I thought he might protest that too, but he continued to surprise me. Cocking his head, he gazed at me quizzically.

"Edward, I don't think you understand what I'm getting at."

Now it was my turn to stare back in what I was sure was a puzzled expression. No, I understood perfectly. Carlisle and I were in sync, we always had been. He would leave now, walk out that door forever, perhaps never knowing my fate or whether I ever made it off the operating table and he would tell no one, not even his wife. It was better that way.

"I…the surgery…won't fix me…even if it's…successful." I mumbled.

Carlisle furrowed his brow and nodded.

"So there's no point…for you…to do it…if something goes…wrong. I don't want you…to blame yourself." Was I trying to convince him or myself? Perhaps both of us, but Carlisle surprised me and smiled a little, shaking his head.

"What then….I don't understand."

"Have you forgotten what I am?"

I stared…mystified…waiting for him to illuminate me. The drugs in my system had made me decidedly unperceptive.

"I can heal you…heal you completely."

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, to demand he explain himself, his revelation became clear to me. I did understand, but it wasn't something that immediately occurred to me only because Carlisle had always been so adamantly opposed to ever doing it to another human being again. It was not a viable option, not a solution to a problem, only creating more problems in the long run and it was inherently wrong. Humans were created in the image of God and he, Carlisle was a god-fearing man, not inclined to tamper with God's creations. Yet there he was implying that he was willing to do that very thing. And there was something else. The expression on his face was no longer tormented; it was that of a man at peace with his decision, unapologetic and not the slightest bit remorseful that his convictions would be compromised.

Something in my expression must have alluded to an understanding of his thoughts and though the smile remained loosely on his lips, there was a melancholy that touched his eyes and he nodded.

"It's the only way…the only way I can save you."

Silence.

Only the whooshing of the ventilator and the beeping of the heart monitor resonated with me. Carlisle wasn't pretending to be human anymore. He was frozen in all respects. His chest did not rise and fall, no air passed through his open mouth, no muscle on his face twitched, even his thumb which had been sliding back and forth on my cheek had stopped. I sensed I was in the room with a dangerous predator yet I felt no fear. On the contrary, I was pissed.

"No." My lips felt numb, the word came out more as a puff of air then a single syllable, but Carlisle heard me and he frowned.

"Edward." He paused, closed his eyes and when he reopened them I saw they were black He wasn't hungry, he wasn't angry this was something else and I knew he had already made his decision.

"No." This time I heard myself clearly. I sounded confident. If he couldn't uphold the convictions he clung to so ferociously when it suited him, I would do it for him.

"It's the only way. I'll postpone the surgery and come back later tonight. It will give the others a chance to get back here. We'll take you to Forks…I'll…no…Denali…we'll go to Denali." He paused, his face losing some of the grief that had touched it when he first entered the room and saw me. He was revitalized with his decision, he would save me one way or another and this infuriated me.

"NO!" I had found my voice and apparently spoke loud enough for others outside my room to hear. The door of the room cracked open.

"Is everything alright?" Doctor Carthage asked.

Carlisle nodded but he didn't bother to turn. "A few more minutes please."

I stared beyond Carlisle as the head of Doctor Carthage disappeared and the door slowly closed. I wanted to yell out to him, tell him to come back, warn him about Carlisle, what he was, what he was planning on doing to me, but that momentary feeling of panic, of helplessness in light of the monstrous act that Carlisle was proposing was squelched by a wave of reassurance when my eyes met Carlisle's again.

"Listen to reason Edward. I know it's not ideal, I wouldn't even consider it if I had any other choice, but there is nothing I can do, no other way. If there was some hope, some treatment, some other option, don't you think that I would take that into consideration? But it's hopeless, even if you survive, even if you could find some fulfillment in what will become of your life, it's too dangerous, your injury…it's rare for you to have survived this long. The long term prognosis is not good. There is no other way."

Carlisle wasn't pleading with me exactly; he didn't speak like he was trying to really convince me of anything. He was just stating what his expansive mind had already concluded in the brief moments after he realized I was his patient and it was aggravating the hell out of me.

"So, were you…planning this all…along?" I spat. I couldn't shake my head so I clenched my jaw and he removed his hand.

"Planning what? I just found out Edward. I'm not lying to you about that. I haven't even looked at your chart yet. I didn't know it was you until I walked into this room."

"But why me, why…would you save…me? What if I…had been just…some random guy, someone…you didn't know…would you be offering…them the same option…right now?"

Carlisle frowned. "I think you know the answer to that."

"And why not? What's…so…special about me…what makes me…worthy of receiving… your…your gift…if that's what…you want to call it."

"I think you know the answer to that too."

And I did. Of course I did, but I didn't want to admit it to him because that would invalidate everything I felt over the last six months. Hate was a powerful emotion and I was reluctant to let it go.

"Say it." I was exhausted. I wasn't even sure if I'd spoken aloud, but when Carlisle gripped the sides of my face with both hands, I knew I would have no choice but to hear him voice what I so wanted to deny.

"Because you're my son, because I love you and can't bear to see you like this, can't withhold the one thing that I can do to help you. I can't deny you and I won't."

His words were dripping with the misery that must have been festering over the last six months. He would have to know what I was thinking. If I was his son…if he loved me…then why did he leave me? He had opened himself up for my assault and I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass.

"You say _son_…like it has some…special meaning…some profound…significance. Well I have…a father and I…am his son and he's…never done…a fucking thing…for me so don't…throw that word…around like it…gives you some kind…of permission to…act a certain way."

Everything in Carlisle's demeanor changed. No longer was he the grief stricken man ready to succumb to my wrath for all the transgressions I'd suffered; he was now my doctor, studying my chart scrupulously, refusing to acknowledge my barbs, professional and indifferent to the outburst from his patient.

I blinked in confusion. A familiar tightening in my abdomen brought me back to another time when I did whatever I could to fit in, to belong, to not rock the boat so they wouldn't send me back. It had been years since I even thought about that, but now I wondered. Had I pushed Carlisle too far?

A nurse walked in…looked at Carlisle…myself…then back at Carlisle before excusing herself and quickly exiting again.

After the brief interruption, Carlisle closed the chart again and waited calmly. When I didn't immediately launch into another tirade, he nodded his head. "You were saying?"

I wanted to clamp my mouth shut and refuse to say another word. _Foster kid_, Edward would have. He always knew which side his bread was buttered on and acted accordingly. But funny how a person changes when a little love is tossed their way. They begin to think they have some right to an opinion and have no problem expressing it.

And so I continued.

"You're a fucking…hypocrite…the worst kind. You claim to…have values…beliefs and throw…them in my face…when it suits you…but then…then…when it's convenient…when it's all…about you…and your pain…what you can bear…you flush them down…the toilet." I was rambling…sputtering out words as fast as the oxygen sparsely expelled by the ventilator would allow me to. I wanted to form a cohesive argument. I only had to gather the words in a neat little pile, organize them and slowly recite them, but my thoughts were cloudy, my sentiments vague and when I opened my mouth I only spewed verbal garbage. Fucking drugs. I shouldn't have been so quick to discount the effectives of that sedative.

"You misunderstood…I feel no shame…no guilt for what I've done. Esme…Rosalie…Emmett…they would be dead…long buried if I hadn't acted as I did. I don't regret…"

"This isn't about them," I gasped. I felt trapped in my motionless paralyzed body. I wanted to lash out physically, I could almost feel my hands clench at my sides. The urge to hit Carlisle was overwhelming. Even remembering how badly that turned out the last time didn't alleviate the desire.

"No it's not about them, it's about you. I changed each of them for a different reason and don't regret it for one instant, but when I reflect on those reasons and the justification for it, they pale in comparison to my rationalization for changing you. No matter what you believe, I see you as my son. I love you…I had no such feelings for the others…not even..."

"Esme." I bristled; then softer, like my venomous tone might tarnish her in some way. "Esme was…is your mate. You had a…reason."

"…not even Esme." Carlisle finished. When he saw me raise my eyebrows skeptically he continued. "I only met her once before. Though I felt a connection with her at the onset, I couldn't equate that with being her mate. She was only a girl. I'm not denying that my infatuation with her was what likely motivated me to change her, but at the time, I had no way of knowing she would be my mate. Rosalie too…I knew her, she was the daughter of one of my patients; a beautiful girl. When I found her abused so horribly and left to die, I did the only thing that made sense…I was wronging a right and if there hadn't been Rosalie there would have been no Emmett. I can justify in my own mind, why I changed them, but I swore there would be no others and I still hold to that vow. I would never have changed you to keep you from getting older… …from dying of natural causes that comes with being human. That is how I've changed, how my values have changed. But you are a boy. You've hardly lived. You have no real future now…no chance to become the man you were meant to be…I can prevent that from happening.

"No…no…no," I muttered. "This isn't about…me, it's about…you. You can't bear…the thought of losing…me, at least not…like this. I can see the guilt…in your face…you feel fucking…guilty and this is…the way you plan…on setting it right."

"That's not true Edward. It has nothing to do with guilt. Yes perhaps you're right; I can't bear the thought of letting you die knowing that not only can I save you but I can return you to your former self, give you the ability to walk again, give you a life back; but I don't feel guilty about anything concerning you other than, maybe convincing you and letting you believe that we were out of your life for good. It was easier for you to believe that you had no future with us so we never tried to convince you otherwise. We let you believe it and I was determined to let you live your life without the dangers that would inevitably be part of it if you remained with us."

"What about…Bella?"

Carlisle looked uncomfortable. My unexpected question caught him off guard, but he couldn't pretend to not know what I was referring to.

"What about Bella?" I repeated. "What about…what I can bear? You were ready…to let Bella die…all your arguments…your beliefs…all lies. You didn't care…how much I…suffered…because it wasn't…you. This is all…about you."

"Edward, that was a completely different situation."

"Different situation…because you didn't…care about Bella…you never have. You wouldn't save her…not even for me." I felt my eyes flutter and I struggled against the weariness. I couldn't fall asleep. I couldn't stop Carlisle then. Not that I had much hope of stopping him now, at least not physically, but I could make him reconsider, deluge him with guilt.

"No Edward. You know that's not true. We've been over this."

"You're a fraud. Everything you claim…to stand for is…a lie. All your arguments…bullshit."

"You know that Bella's situation wasn't hopeless. She was being treated, she was stable. I'm not God. I can't force my…"

"You aren't God? Who are you…kidding. You play the role…fucking perfectly…deciding who should…live and who should…die. And you're…selfish with your gift...denying the most…deserving because…you don't LOVE them."

As I struggled to keep my eyes open I noticed that Carlisle's irises had turned back to a rich golden color. I had brought him back from that feral place where instincts ruled.

"I never claimed to be perfect and I can't claim to be human but I do the best I can." His voice had grown soft and introspective, like he was talking to himself.

"I don't want to…be like you…like any of you. I'd rather be in…a wheelchair for…the rest of my…fucking life…I'd rather be dead…buried…six feet under…dead…not like you." I was so tired. Carlisle was leaning over me again, his cold hand pressed against my forehead.

"I'm sorry Edward."

"You only want to...change me to avoid…feeling…loss. Selfish."

"I couldn't take the risk with Bella. I explained that then and I feel no differently today."

"You would have if it were me."

Carlisle stared deeply into my eyes. He was debating whether to lie.

"Yes I would have. God help me I would have taken the chance with you."

"Selfish," I said smugly.

"Perhaps. But if it had been you, I would have had to deal with the consequences. I would have had to take action. We would have suffered, but my wife would have forgiven me, my children would have forgiven me."

I blinked. "Are you saying…that I wouldn't…have forgiven you if…things had gone wrong…with Bella?"

"I'm saying exactly that Edward. You aren't one of us, you wouldn't have understood, you still don't."

The argument felt as old as the ages. I was exhausted. I wondered what time it was. The surgery was scheduled to start at eight o'clock a.m. It felt much later than that.

The situation with Bella _had_ been different and I had seen some of the logic behind Carlisle's decision, but that hadn't kept me from hating him at the time. It had changed our relationship. It was the first time in all my years with him that I was distrustful and suspicious of his decision and it hurt him, but he endured it and didn't change his mind.

"And will I…understand if I…become one of you?"

"Probably not."

I snorted. "How convenient for you."

"Why do you resist? Are you really ready to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair provided you even live through today's surgery?"

"What you want…to do to me…you'll kill me."

"That's different."

"I'll be dead…stone cold dead."

"Only in the human sense, but you gain so much more."

"Yeah the…desire to kill…the thirst for blood…a monster of fucking…storybooks and nightmares."

"Is that how you think of us?" Carlisle asked softly, sadness creased his face.

Images of the only family I had ever truly known permeated my thoughts. Esme…sweet gentle loving Esme; Emmett jovial and good natured; Alice inquisitive and fun; Rosalie…well Rosalie could be a monster but I'd only ever been exposed to her fierce loyalty and protectiveness.

Only Jasper had lived the life of a monster but nothing in his association with me could convince me that he was anything but a tortured man, haunted by a horrific past, suffering for his grievous transgressions. And then there was Carlisle. No human could be more decent, more caring, more compassionate. The Cullens were not monsters, but that didn't mean I wouldn't be. Carlisle was selfish not to consider what I might become, what lives I might take.

"Edward, do you think of us as monsters?" Carlisle repeated, sensing he had made a significant point.

But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You'll damn…my soul to hell."

I wasn't surprised to see Carlisle flinch. He was sensitive to such accusations. He'd had that argument with Rosalie many times in the past.

"I don't believe that."

"But you have no…way of knowing."

"You'd be immortal. There is no argument to be made whether I would put your soul in jeopardy or not."

"But I could still…die. Your kind…can still die. And then what?"

"I don't believe you will be sacrificing your soul by becoming one of us if that's what you're asking."

"I'm not asking…anything; I'm telling you…that you have no right…to condemn me…to such a fate. You don't know…for sure…you don't know."

"You've never taken that stance before. You've never had any opinion on it or expressed any concern whether you had a soul or not. I don't believe it's something you feel strongly about."

Of course Carlisle would throw my agnostic beliefs back at me when I attempted to use them to thwart him.

"Is it my fault…that you failed to…educate me in issues…pertaining to the…existence and potential…loss of my soul."

Carlisle usually wasn't one for dramatic facial expressions but he rolled his eyes obviously failing to appreciate my theatrics.

"I don't have…a choice then? You'll kill me…anyway?" There was no pleasure in this battle anymore."

"I'm sorry son. I don't understand your argument. It didn't occur to me that you would refuse what I can offer you. Please don't defy me to punish me…to punish us. We had to leave…you know why...there was never any choice."

"If I decide…to stay human, will you…leave me again?" It was a question I hadn't meant to ask and I might have believed I only thought it except Carlisle's hand stopped in mid air just as he was about to run his fingers through his hair, a familiar human trait he resorted to in times of stress. He stared at me expressionless for a moment, then in the briefest of movements that I wouldn't have detected if I had not been studying him closely, he shook his head slightly.

"That danger…that danger has passed for now," Carlisle mumbled.

It occurred to me that if what he was saying was true, they hadn't come back for me even after the_ danger..._code word for the evil vampires from some place in Italy called Volterra...had passed. I didn't have the strength to challenge him on it and didn't want to hear any more of his false promises. They never had any intention of coming back, but in fairness they never promised they would. Why would I expect them to stay now that I would be just some worthless cripple in a wheelchair?

I closed my eyes.

"Edward." Carlisle sighed.

I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and flinched when I felt the coldness of his hand against my face again.

"Changing you…it's the only option you have."

_You want a perfect son... _

The alternative…the risk…it's too great.

_...to go with your perfect family._

"I won't lose you."

_Too many years invested. Maybe this was your plan all along._

"Please don't try to punish me by destroying yourself."

_You don't want the guilt…you can't live with the guilt._

"We love you…we want you with us."

_But only if I'm perfect…no damaged humans need apply._

"Edward, are you listening?"

"Please don't…"

Another heavy sigh.

"If that's what you really truly want. I would never force my will on you."

"It's what I…want."

"We won't abandon you Edward. We'll be here for you."

I would ignore his lies. Before today I hadn't expected to see Carlisle or any of them again. If, after the surgery, I was still alive, I would accept and even encourage them to go. Humans and vampires didn't mix. I'd heard that somewhere before but I couldn't remember who said it…Rosalie maybe. It sounded like Rosalie.

"I'll do the surgery."

"I'm sorry you…have to be the one."

"I'm your best hope. You don't think I'd let one of those clumsy human doctors anywhere near your neck with a scalpel do you?"

That made me smile. Carlisle was a brilliant surgeon. When Doctor Carthage had suggested bringing in another surgeon I hadn't even considered Carlisle. In retrospect, I couldn't understand why.

"Edward?"

"Hmmmm."

"I won't let you die on the table."

"I'll try not to."

"No son, if it comes to that, I'll change you…you can hate me afterward."

"…and I will." Was I dreaming? I was beginning to think this entire conversation was happening in my head.

"I'll take my chances."

"What will you…tell Doctor Carthage? He might be…suspicious when I…suddenly jump up from…the operating table."

"Oh…I'll think of something."

"Carlisle?"

"Yes son."

"I don't really want to die."

"I know Edward and I won't let you."

"Okay."

Cold hands on my face…it felt good. I was suddenly hot. I wanted to tell him to take off the extra blankets, but I couldn't get my mouth to form the words.

* * *

**_Author Notes:_**

**_The idea that Carlisle was the surgeon that Dr Carthage was bringing in to do the surgery was not mine. A reader questioned whether Carlisle was the surgeon in a review following Walking Disaster and that's how I first got the idea so I changed my outline to accommodate it. I think it made sense and though I always considered Carlisle more of a family doctor; in the Twilight book, Charlie does refer to him as a "brilliant surgeon"._**

**_So now you know why the Cullens abandon Edward…the Volturi of course. The details were scant but you'll find out more in upcoming flashbacks ;o). You also know that Edward finds out their secret at some point during his time with them which will also be explored in more depth later on._**

**_What can I say about Bella? More questions I know, but I can't reveal anything yet because what Edward and Carlisle briefly touched upon in this chapter is a huge part of the story._**

**_I have to say that so far this was probably my favorite chapter to write. I simply love anything with Carlisle and Edward as focal points. Their relationship fascinates me._**

**_Comments are always appreciated. Thanks so much for reading._**


	13. The Outsider

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**I had a hard time finding Edward's voice in this chapter. Initially, everything I wrote sounded like seven year old Edward with a Thesaurus so I had to write this in a more traditional 3rd person POV.**_

_**Remember we've jumped back to Edward as a child.**_

* * *

The day was overcast, the air felt heavy and moist which was nothing new in Forks but the lack of sunshine and the heavy clouds that masked the peaks of the mountains as they sagged in the sky contributed to Edward's dour mood. The tree branch he sat perched in though not particularly high, gave him an exceptional view of the geographical layout of the Cullen property including the large white house that sat on a slight rise overlooking the great expanse of yard and surrounding woods.

The tree was a favored hiding place, offering privacy when he wanted it but still close enough to the house so that all it would take was a quick sprint across the yard and he would be safely at the front door; especially reassuring if the skies were to suddenly open up with a deluge of rain before he was finished moping and grudgingly returned home on his own.

He blamed his foul mood on Bella's departure but he knew it was more than that. Her visits were like clockwork. Every summer she arrived at the end of June staying exactly six weeks before returning home to Arizona. Her departure date never wavered, never changed, so the countdown until she left again would begin the day after she arrived. Then she would be gone, not to return until the following summer and her departure would send him spiraling into a fit of moodiness that could last for several days.

But this year was different. Oh he had still tearfully said his goodbyes to Bella the day before she left, hugging her tightly to him, ignoring the disapproving snorts that would emanate from Charlie from time to time as he pretended to give them their privacy, staring out the window at Carlisle's car idling in the driveway. As Edward held Bella tightly to him, he would breath in her sweet scent imaging that no finer perfume existed; and when he pulled back, he would study her face, burning it into his memory and understanding the next time he saw her she would be different…again. Each year brought changes to her features until she was no longer that round faced, rosy cheeked girl with dimples and perfectly formed doll-like lips. Her face had thinned out over the years, highlighting a petite nose, flawless pale skin and dark haunted eyes, all framed by thick brown hair that hung well down the middle of her back that year, but could be cut short the next time he saw her.

Yet even having suffered through another painful goodbye, watching her image getting smaller and smaller from the backseat of Carlisle's car, it wasn't what had triggered a feeling of melancholy that had lingered for days beyond what was his normal mourning period because five days after Bella left, he had watched Emmett and Rosalie pack up the BMW and wave goodbye as they headed off to college somewhere _out east_ and that had turned his entire world upside down.

He had underestimated how much he interacted with Emmett on a daily basis until he was gone. Emmett was his second best friend and even given their age difference he could always be counted on to keep Edward entertained and engaged in some form of mischief that would incur Rosalie's wrath much to Emmett's amusement and Edward's chagrin. But even if Rosalie did try to ruin all their fun, he missed her and her bossy mothering ways all the more that she wasn't around to harp on him constantly…

…_.stand up straight...don't talk with your mouth full…finish your homework…don't believe everything someone tells you…for god's sake stop acting like a Emmett_.

Even Esme, didn't smother him as much as Rosalie did.

With their departure, Edward felt a loneliness that was unfamiliar and mildly reminiscent of another time…a time he didn't like to think about and he couldn't quash a lingering feeling of abandonment by those that mattered most in his life. Carlisle and Jasper tried to fill the void left by Emmett, but that was like replacing a dog with a gold fish which the Cullens had literally done some years before when he inquired about getting a dog and was told that the entire family was allergic to them….well, the entire family but him. The goldfish had lasted a week. He was just a little kid then and didn't realize that a fish couldn't be taken out of the fish bowl and played with and petted until he returned it to its watery home and watched it float to the surface…belly up. He declined to get another one deciding that a gold fish wasn't a very good replacement for a dog.

And Carlisle and Jasper weren't very good replacements for Emmett. Carlisle was just too much like a dad to take on the roll as friend and confidant and Jasper…Jasper never understood exactly what it was like to be a kid, to do dumb things for no apparent reason or behave in a way that wasn't very mature and Edward found it tiresome to explain why it was fun. In fact, Jasper had a somberness about him that made him seem older than Carlisle at times.

When Carlisle realized that they failed to act as a surrogate for Emmett he reminded Edward that he only had one more week before school started and then he would be back with his friends and wouldn't have so much free time on his hands to contemplate how much he missed his two best friends.

But with school and it's distractions he would also be forced to come to terms with that vast differences between himself and his schoolmates and it wasn't just the atypical idiosyncrasies that he lived with every day and tried not to notice or think about or comment on. The Cullen house and land surrounding it was a compound of sorts. The Cullens socialized only with each other. They never had visitors, never had friends over; they weren't involved in sports, didn't participate in any clubs and had no interaction with anyone outside of the immediate family. Invariably Edward had adopted those behaviors not wanting to highlight yet another difference between him and the Cullens, so any social connections he developed at school were superficial and he hardly expected that they would fill the void left by Emmett.

So caught up in his feelings of dejection, Edward barely notice when the rain started, the canopy of the leaves overhead keeping him remarkably dry. He only had to adjust his position slightly on the tree limb to be almost completely protected from the weather, finding a nice comfortable niche to watch the house from. His mood was only slightly offset by his curiosity as he waited for the arrival of the visitors that the entire household was preparing for. Not once in all the years he'd lived with the Cullens did he ever remember seeing any outsider at the house other than the occasional repair man or someone selling something that no one wanted to buy. But for days now, he'd been told about the visitors that were coming, old friends of Carlisle's, an extraordinary event judging by Alice's unrestrained delight in preparing the house for guests.

He looked down at the fishing pole lying on the ground a few feet below him that he'd grabbed from the garage as an afterthought when he made his run for freedom after taking the umpteenth bag of garbage out. He didn't know where Alice was finding all of the trash but he'd had just about enough of her chores for the day and slipped out when she was busy installing new window treatments in every room of the house.

He supposed he could climb down and get it and try to drop a line in from the tree which might make the afternoon pass a little quicker but before he could talk himself into it, he heard the rumbling of a car that sounded much closer than the normal everyday traffic from the road closest to the house.

Carlisle's friends had arrived earlier than expected; either that or he had been sitting in the tree longer than he thought. He watched as a large black sedan slowly wound through the trees coming to a stop in front of the house. Carlisle and Esme were already waiting on the front porch joined almost immediately by Alice and Jasper.

He made no move to jump down and join them and instead pressed himself back against the tree discreetly peering through the leaves as the occupants of the car emerged from it. The driver was a large man, nearly as tall as Jasper but without the bulk of Emmett. He moved with an unnatural grace and fluidity that immediately made Edward suspicious, but it wasn't until he saw the others that he knew for sure.

He was too far away to identify specific features but he knew they were all women and was surprised by the familiarity in which they greeted the Cullens, exchanging warm hugs with his family. The scene of friendly exchanges with these strangers was so unexpected that it almost drew Edward from his hiding place. Having never seen the Cullens interact with anyone besides each other and himself before, he was drawn to the unrestrained affection they displayed for one another.

He didn't think he had moved; he was getting pretty good at mimicking his family when it came to standing as still as a statue; a game everyone seemed to enjoy playing from time to time and he could stand still with the best of them. But he had to breathe and when he took a shallow breath, every head turned in his direction. He froze, not exactly sure why he suddenly felt like a deer caught in the headlights, but cognizant that he was now the center of attention no matter how unwanted that attention might be.

He was too far away to hear Carlisle call to him but he saw his hand go up waving him in and in a second act of rebellion that day, Edward ignored him, not in the mood for visitors especially when he saw they were all adults and such good friends that they warranted hugs and kisses on the cheek. He wouldn't admit that he was jealous, it was a feeling he was unaccustomed too; usually he was the center of attention and he'd grown use to it. But now he had competition for the affection that he'd begun to take for granted and from the looks of it, Carlisle's friends didn't have any kids which might have made him forget his resentment over the deference they showed for each other.

There was something else too. These visitors might as well have been family. Even as far away as he was he could see the similarities between the newcomers and the Cullens. Not so much in physical features, but how they moved, how they flowed, from one place to another with no effort or apparent conscious thought and he felt a wave of envy; just more people to make him feel like an outsider within his own family. It was always him that was different, always him that stood out and not in a good way; even Carlisle's friends were like the Cullens and he couldn't understand why none of their beauty and special talents and skills had rubbed off on him.

Edward knew from experience that his mutiny wouldn't last for long and hiding in the tree really wasn't possible. They always found him, even when he was young and small and could fit in the tiniest places like hollowed out logs and little caves he found in the woods. Sometimes he would hide for fun, a game of hide and seek, but no matter how good he was at hiding or how much of a head start he got, it didn't take long and they would be calling out to him, peeking their head into his hiding spot and tickling him until he squealed with delight.

But there were also times he hid out of fear…fear that he would be punished for spilling his milk when he carelessly put his glass down wrong or knocked a painting off the wall when he threw a ball in the house or got a bad grade in school because he didn't _apply_ himself. He didn't always get a chance to hide then. Often they knew what he was thinking and would thwart his attempts to runaway but for those times when he did make it out of the house, they would always find him and so he eventually just stopped trying to hide. But that was when he was a little kid and he wasn't little anymore so he wasn't sure why he pressed himself against the tree, in the futile attempt to remain concealed amongst the greenery.

It had begun to rain harder; the steady pattering of rain had taken on an intensity that drowned out the sounds of the forest and the sky flashed with distant lightening as a clap of thunder jolted him into reconsidering his position in the tree. It was dangerous there. He could be hit by lightening. It was only a matter of time before someone came to get him. He shuddered as the wetness of the rain permeated his clothing, his jeans…his t-shirt and he felt a slight chill despite the warmness of the late afternoon air.

He might have blinked or looked away for a few seconds, but when he refocused on the small group of people near the house they were gone. Only Jasper remained leaning against the railing of the porch looking in his direction.

"Edward, what are you doing out here?"

"Oohh."

No matter how many times it happened to him, no matter how many times he told himself that he would hear the next time someone approached him, he was never prepared for the abrupt appearance of one of the Cullens at his side when only a second before they hadn't been anywhere near him and he would have fallen out of the tree if Carlisle's hand hadn't steadied him.

"I'm sorry son. I thought you saw me coming," Carlisle lied as he always did when his baffling speed caught Edward off guard. He was straddling the tree limb next to Edward, looking completely comfortable, like he had been there for some time.

"Yeah, the rain…I couldn't hear you," Edward replied, his own lie part of the dance that he and Carlisle played, avoiding what one didn't want to talk about and the other knew better than to ask.

"Why don't you come back to the house; everyone wants to meet you. You don't have to be shy."

"I'm not shy," he said indignantly. "I'm fishing."

Carlisle glanced at the fishing pole lying on the ground and cocked his head skeptically. "I'm no expert, but don't you need to put your line in the water to catch a fish?"

"I'm _going_ fishing," Edward amended. "Just waiting for the rain to stop."

"Well why don't you come in and meet everyone then you can go fishing. Maybe the weather will improve."

Edward sighed. Carlisle never actually told him to do something. He would suggest it leaving it up to him to come up with a good reason to refuse the request.

"I guess." He was surprised when Carlisle didn't immediately jump to the ground and looked up to find him studying him.

"Are you still upset about Emmett?"

"I'm not upset. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"I know it's been hard for you to have both Bella and Emmett leave at the same time, but Emmett will be back before Christmas so you won't have to wait too long to see him again."

"I know…I know, it's no big deal," Edward mumbled, finding something fascinating in the bark beneath his hands.

Carlisle was waiting for him to look up but Edward knew that trick and declined to meet his eyes.

"Maybe we should go give Emmett a call and see how things are going at school. He and Rosalie should be just about settled in to their new apartment. Then when it stops raining you can show my friend Eleazar how to fish."

"He doesn't know how to fish?" It didn't surprise Edward; none of the Cullens seemed too adept at it, but he thought it appropriate that he pretended to think otherwise.

Carlisle cocked an eyebrow, indicating he wasn't fooled. The dance was on again. "No Eleazar doesn't do much fishing."

"It's not that hard." Edward muttered. "I learned by myself."

"So you wouldn't mind showing him then?"

"What else do I have to do." Edward shrugged.

"School starts in a week, things will get better after that." Carlisle reminded him and not for the first time.

"Do your friends have any kids?" Edward asked, already knowing the answer to that question.

"Ahhh no…no they don't. That's one reason why they want to meet you so bad. Do you think you could come in and say hello?"

Another reasonable suggested that left no room for argument.

"Sure, but Carlisle…" Edward jumped to the ground and was unperturbed to find Carlisle had beaten him out of the tree and was waiting for him with the fishing pole in hand. "How come you can have people over but I can't?"

There he said it… what had been bothering him from the moment he found out the Carlisle's friends were coming for a visit.

Carlisle looked at him thoughtfully for a moment than put an arm around Edward's shoulders as they walked back to the house side by side.

"You haven't asked to have friends over to the house for a long time," Carlisle said after a brief silence.

"It's no big deal, I was just wondering."

"Well it's a good question," Carlisle acknowledged. "It's not that you can't have friends over, Edward. It's just…well we live an unconventional lifestyle as you know and it can be difficult to explain that to people that don't know us. You've always been very mature in accepting our differences and not judging us for them. My only concern is that any friends you bring to the house wouldn't understand; they might question our way of life and word might get out."

Edward didn't need any further explanation. He didn't need to know the specifics of what might _get out_. It was enough that Carlisle was worried about it and the last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize what he and the Cullens had built over the years. There could be no outsiders that came in and interfered with that. Having a friend over seemed trivial given the ramifications if something went wrong.

"Don't worry, I don't need anyone to come over," he said quickly, wanting to bring about a swift end to that nonsense.

"I think it's something we need to discuss more later," Carlisle said reasonably. "It's not impossible and I know Esme would love to meet some of your friends. Maybe we could have a Halloween party?"

"Umm okay." Halloween was a favorite holiday in the Cullen household.

"Come on let's run before we drown out here," Carlisle said brushing his hand through Edward's drenched hair.

"Race ya," Edward replied and they immediately broke into a run, not at Carlisle speed, but at Edward speed. Edward even cracked a smile when he imagined beating Carlisle or any of the Cullens in a foot race. They were too fast; super hero fast even and he figured that was one of those things that Carlisle didn't want to _get out_. When they reached the house it was Edward that had beaten Carlisle, though Edward knew better. Carlisle always let him win.

Jasper was no longer on the porch and Edward could hear the voices of the visitors and his family through the screen door though he couldn't understand a word that was being said. It was like he thought; Carlisle's friends were like him…like all of them. Any slight improvement in his mood evaporated.

Everyone was gathered in the great room just off the front entrance. The room itself was huge but even with Emmett and Rosalie's absence, it felt claustrophobic. The furniture was underutilized and with only Alice and the man taking advantage of it, there wasn't much room for both the people and the unused chairs and sofas.

Edward might have been prepared for the pale skin, ethereal beauty, fluid movements and sing song voices of the new arrivals, but he was not prepared to be greeted by three sets of eyes from the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, well except for Rosalie and Esme. He stepped back and bumped into Carlisle feeling his hands settle on his shoulders.

"Everyone. I'd like you to meet Edward," Carlisle announced. "Edward, these are my friends from Alaska. Remember…we've talked about them before. This is Irina, Kate and Tanya and over here…"

He felt Carlisle turn him slightly. "…is Eleazar and his wife Carmen."

Edward looked past the man who was staring at him intently. The women standing next to him was young and also very pretty and he likened her looks to Alice. She was darkly complected and had a kind face that instantly drew him in.

"We've heard so much about you Edward, it's so nice to meet you," Carmen said. She stood slightly behind her husband and though her eyes conveyed the warmth of her words, she didn't appear too eager to come any closer.

He wished he hadn't gotten caught in the rain just then, imagining how his own appearance paled in comparison to the refined elegantly dressed and finely groomed guests.

"It's nice to meet you to," he replied politely his eyes flickering back to the three women that stood off to one side, their expressions mirroring each other.

"Oh my, you never told us how adorable he is," one of the women said breathlessly. "He's going to be stunning when he gets older."

Edward felt the tips of his ears burn in embarrassment. He was startled to realize he didn't know which one had made the comment. They were like triplets that looked exactly alike without looking anything alike at all. He could easily tell them apart, but everything about them suggested they were of one body…one soul. He hadn't even seen which one's lips had moved but perhaps that was because he was looking at the wrong one.

"The key word is older, Tanya, much older," Carlisle mumbled.

"What's ten years…just a blink of an eye." The blond women purred looking absolutely delighted about something. "I can wait."

This time Edward saw which one spoke and he felt the blush extend to his face. He wasn't sure but he thought Esme growled in response and he looked at her curiously, but her face gave nothing away and she smiled at him reassuringly.

"We understand that you're quite the piano player," the women he understood to be Kate said nodding toward the grand piano that was the focal point of the room. "Perhaps you'll play for us during our stay."

"Sure," he said agreeably. "I'm not as good as Rosalie though."

"Rosalie's a fine piano player as she's reminded us time and again over the years," Kate said, her tone less then friendly. "But from what I understand for a boy your age, you're exceptional."

The comment puzzled Edward. He quickly did the math and frowned. "How long have you known Rosalie? Wouldn't she have been a little kid then? She told me she didn't learn how to play until she started high school."

Silence.

Carlisle cleared his throat.

"Umm…well, I might have been mistaken. Maybe I'm thinking of someone else." Kate's eyes flickered up over his head presumably to Carlisle's. "Still I would love to hear you play."

"Not only is Edward an excellent piano player, he's a fabulous chess player. He challenges Carlisle and I with his outrageously bold moves and unorthodox play. I suspect he'll test your skills, Eleazar." Jasper interjected, standing apart from the others, his posture anything but relaxed.

"I'm okay…but I think they let me win." Edward acknowledged and was surprised that his comment generated some chuckles.

"Hmmm and I always thought it was the other way around," Carlisle quipped, giving his shoulders a squeeze.

"I hear you'll be starting the sixth grade this year, Edward. That's junior high school isn't it?" Carmen had stepped in front of her husband and moved closer. She looked like she wanted to give him a hug and Edward pressed back against Carlisle.

"Yeah. Don't you have any kids?" He knew the answer already, but wanted to hear confirmation from her lips.

"Oh…umm…no I don't," Carmen stammered, she hesitated next to Esme.

His eyes flickered to Eleazar who didn't seem to be following the conversation even though his golden eyes were focused keenly on him. Wanting to incite a reaction, he ignored Esme's disapproving look. "Do you want to have kids?"

The comment was directed at Eleazar, but it was Carmen that responded to it.

"I'm not sure. Maybe someday. If I thought they would be like you, I think I would like it very much."

She looked pained like she might be telling the truth and Edward blushed again feeling bad for asking. He knew Esme couldn't have children of her own and it hurt her very much to talk about it. He wondered if it was the same for Carmen.

"This is all very sweet, but you do realize the risk you are putting us in, Carlisle?" The acerbic comment came from the women who had the whitest hair Edward had ever seen.

She didn't look friendly. In fact she had a scowl on her face that contorted her beautiful features and made Edward wonder how he ever could have considered her beauty on par with Rosalie or Esme.

"Please, sister. We've been over this. You worry enough for all of us. There is nothing being done here that is breaking any laws." Tanya argued attempting to touch the women next to her who abruptly pulled away from the small group and stood in front of the window looking out at the dreary weather.

"The law of our kind forbids exposure to the…"

"Irina." Carlisle voice was low, barely audible.

"You're taking too great of a risk," she snapped.

"Perhaps, but it is of our choosing. You have done nothing wrong. You have nothing to fear." Carlisle continued reasonably. "We would never expect you to be accountable for our bad decisions in any case."

"Irina might have a point, "Kate admitted. "You don't expect us to just turn our backs on you, do you? It's somewhat selfish to take risks without considering the consequences, not only for yourselves but others around you, those that you consider family, those that would suffer over your loss."

"I hear you…both of you, but this decision was made, right or wrong, a long time ago and there is no way to undo what has already been done," Carlisle acknowledged.

"Nor would we want to," Esme said firmly. She had not moved from her position next to Carmen but everything in her body language suggested she was doing her best not to take a physical position next to Carlisle.

But when Edward glanced from Esme to the others then back at her, he realized it was he that she wanted to join and he could almost see the need in her eyes. She was silently begging him to move closer. Obediently, he took a step forward, but Carlisle's hands tightened on his shoulder's holding him in place.

Edward could not surmise the nature of the conversation other than to conclude that it had something to do with him and he felt his stomach twist in a knot of anxiety.

"The future holds no hint of the darkness you speak of, Irina," Alice said seriously; her dismay over the downward spiral of both mood and conversation evident in the solemn expression that seldom touched the features of her face.

"The future can always change, Alice." Irina reminded her, unwilling to be persuaded by those around her. "Eleazar, have you nothing to say to your old friend? Certainly you can convince him that this path is a dangerous one…a slippery slope that could bring disaster down upon all of us."

There was a moment of silence in the room. As all eyes shifted to the man who hadn't said a word in Edward's presence. He was staring at him intently with a strange expression on his face and Edward shifted uncomfortably under the burn of his gaze. He felt he was being studied like an insect under a microscope and maybe even judged. Could he measure up and be good enough for the Cullens? Even with his exceptional piano and chess skills, he wasn't so sure. And what would happen to him if Eleazar agreed with whatever Irina was talking about? What would Carlisle do with him then? He hadn't thought about being sent away for a long time, but when he stopped to consider it he realized that it was a fear that never left him completely.

Everyone was waiting expectantly for Eleazar's reply and Edward refused to break the gaze of the man before him. His eyes were identical to that of the Cullens, golden with a touch of black around the edges, but as Edward stared into them he was mindful that they had turned darker, a deep amber and he felt the first inkling of foreboding.

"Eleazar, what are you doing?" It was Carlisle that finally broke the silence.

The man held up his hand. He never broke his gaze with Edward and now Edward felt locked into it and couldn't look away if he tried. He wasn't afraid exactly. He knew Carlisle wouldn't let anyone hurt him and there was no reason for the stranger in front of him to want to, he hadn't done anything wrong, but he felt like they were at a crossroads and though he wouldn't be able to articulate why if someone were to ask him, he recognized the danger behind that man's scrutiny.

"What are you thinking, Edward." The man finally asked, each word spoken exceedingly slow.

"Nothing," Edward mumbled and by speaking he broke the man's hypnotic stare.

"Eleazar now is not really the time for this." Carlisle's voice was even, not alarmed, but there was an underlying threat that was surprising. Eleazar was his friend after all.

"I can't turn it off on a whim, Carlisle. Just give me a minute more and I'll have it," the man said. He didn't sound angry, his tone wasn't threatening, still Edward was wary.

He cocked his head at Edward. His dark complexion contrasted oddly with the paleness of his skin. "Let me rephrase that. What do you think about me?"

Edward looked at him skeptically. He was suspicious of the question. There was an underlying meaning to it and everyone in the room knew it…everyone in the room that was except for him. Again, as was often the case in his years with the Cullens, he felt he was on the outside, never quite fitting in, never understanding exactly what was going on and he felt it more so now, with the addition of five of Carlisle's friends. He wondered if perhaps some of his fantasizing had been right all along. Perhaps all these pale beautiful people were super heroes of a sort, members of a secret club and he was the only one among them that didn't belong. It would be worth considering. He would have to pay better attention.

"It's alright Edward, just say what's on your mind." Carlisle reassured him.

Edward had no intention of doing any such thing, but he had to give this Eleazar fellow an answer.

"I think….I think you're too old to have a wife so young." It was the first thing that came to his mind and he only realized how rude it sounded after he heard Esme gasp. But when everyone else, including Carlisle and Eleazar broke out in loud snorts of laughter, he relaxed and stood a little taller.

"Edward that wasn't very polite," Esme said, but even her voice quivered with suppressed giggles.

"Well Eleazar did ask." Carlisle snickered.

"That I did, that I did," Eleazar said nodding, a grin on his face. His eyes twinkled, no longer boring into Edward's and he looked around at his companion.

"Carmen, it seems the child thinks I'm too old for you. I can't say that I've ever considered it a problem before, am I wrong?"

"Well you are old, there is no denying that, but after all these years, I don't think I could handle a younger man," She giggled.

Edward shoved his hands in his pocket, feeling a little better now that the tension had left the room, but he should have known that Esme wouldn't let his rudeness go unpunished.

"Edward, you need to apologize to Eleazar and Carmen. That's not how we treat guests."

Edward thought about ignoring her. Esme, seldom the disciplinarian, wouldn't punish him; still he didn't like it when she disapproved of anything he said or did. On the other hand, as harmless as Eleazar appeared to be, Edward was sure there was an underlying meaning in his words, an attempt to trick him into revealing something about himself. Even Carlisle had reacted defensively to what appeared to be a simple question.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you're not as old as you look."

"Edward!"

If the room rang with laughter before it had taken on the crescendo of a church steeple now. Even Jasper was doubled over, holding his side, a sympathetic Alice stroking the side of his face wiping at tears that as far as Edward knew, Jasper couldn't shed.

Only Esme looked angry, but her anger was muted and didn't reach her eyes and despite her best efforts to appear stern, her lips twitched upward in a smile.

"It's alright Esme, I think I startled the boy with my question and after all, forthright children should not be punished for expressing themselves. " Eleazar didn't appear angry, far from it, he seemed to find his insolence hilarious and Edward was disappointed.

"Your observations, while enlightening are not addressing the bigger issue here." Irina looked no more amused than Esme, though Edward guessed for an entirely different reason. "Surely having served them, lived with them you can see that this path he's chosen is fraught with peril. Tell Carlisle of the risks. He certainly won't be persuaded by me. After all what do I know?"

The merriment in the room disappeared and Eleazar pulled his gaze from Edward to face the women that continued to pursue a line of questioning that no one but Edward seemed interested in hearing more about.

"I trust Carlisle's good judgment to keep his family and us safe. There is no reason, just because he has chosen a more unorthodox path to follow that any of this would come under their scrutiny." Eleazar raked his fingers through his thick black hair and glanced back at Edward. "They know Carlisle to be a doctor; surely it wouldn't be too unexpected that he would be a father too?"

Edward watched closely as Eleazar spoke and realized that his words were enunciated in one long continues flow. It took him a moment to realize that he never stopped to take a breath and that realization left him momentarily distracted; so much so that he almost missed the next comment.

"Given what I've seen and that I am seldom wrong in my interpretation of my …errr ability, I think Carlisle could make an argument not unlike our good friend Aro did when he patiently waited for the twins to come of age."

Someone gasped, but Edward wasn't sure who and he looked around confused at the startled faces of the adults that surrounded him.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about and I think this conversation is best left for another time," Carlisle said in a stilted voice, painfully squeezing Edward's shoulders.

"Yes, I think Edward has entertained us with his behavior enough for one afternoon." Esme agreed.

"I suppose I could go to my room as punishment." He felt sticky and uncomfortable in his damp clothes and it was obvious the adults wanted to talk outside of his presence. He tried to appear contrite, and even managed to squirm under Esme's disapproving stare.

"Oh you suppose do you. Yes well you go there for now until I can think of something better." Esme was not to be swayed by attempts to appear repentant. She knew him too well for that.

"I guess I could eat dinner alone as punishment."

That comment probably went too far. Esme looked absolutely incensed though she certainly wasn't frightening in her anger. But her reaction gave him the answer he was looking for. The new arrivals didn't eat either.

"Enough with you young man…upstairs you go."

"Oh he is a cheeky one, isn't he?" He heard Tanya say as he marched through the room refusing to meet Esme's eyes and started up the stairs.

"Edward's had a hard week. He's usually quite amiable. I'm sure you'll see that side of him before you leave," Carlisle said.

"Do you know what you have there, Carlisle?"

The question from Eleazar caught Edward's attention and he hesitated at the first landing.

"That child, I've never seen anything quite like it…astounding."

"He's just a boy Eleazar; surely you can't see anything yet." Carlisle's voice had taken on a weary tone.

"Age doesn't affect what I see. If anything it enhances it. Children aren't guarded like adults; they're open and expressive. No, that boy has a rare and truly powerful gift."

"Enough Eleazar." Carlisle warned. "Edward aren't you suppose to be in your room?"

Edward understood it to be a question that needed no reply. He stomped up the stairs and slammed the bedcroom door to leave no doubt that he was sequestered within the confines of his cell.

He was slightly ashamed of his behavior. Normally, even when he was in one of his moods, he didn't lash out at anyone and he hated for Esme to be angry with him, but he hadn't seemed to be able to help himself. There was no reason for him to act so outrageously to a simple question from the stranger, but he was right in assuming that it wasn't just a simple question. There was something more too it. Carlisle's reaction was evidence of that.

Then there was Irina. He couldn't be sure but he had the distinct impression that she didn't like him, even resented him in some way and was implying that his presence had put the Cullens in danger. There could be no other explanation, even talking in code could not hide that he was the focal point of the conversation. And the sidelong glares she'd thrown his way had confirmed it. He would do his best to avoid her during their visit which could prove difficult since he had no intention of wandering off alone with her around.

He thought about eavesdropping. There was a vent in his room and if he pressed his ear against it he could often hear snippets of conversation from the room below. But generally the words were spoken too rapidly for him to understand, so seldom did he pick up anything useful.

And did he really want to know? Again he thought that might be a question that didn't need an answer. He had seen too many things in his young life not to understand that knowledge wasn't all it was cracked up to be despite Carlisle's opinion to the contrary. Living with a house full of people that never ate or drank anything, never slept, never got sick…not ever, not a cough or cold or even a sniffle, had taught him that some things were just left unspoken.

He didn't need to know why no one used the bathroom but him and Rosalie who could be locked in there for hours doing God knows what. There was no reason that he had to learn how to climb to the very top of a tree that had no branches, yet could be easily scaled by Jasper who would wave to him from the very top, looking neither frightened nor particularly excited by his envious vantage point. Did it really matter to him that Alice could predict the weather better than any of the weatherman on TV or that she tattled on him when he did something wrong, _before_ he actually did it. And if the Cullen boys could throw the ball better or run faster or were stronger than any other boy at school, yet they never acted better or strong or faster at school, was that his business and was it really that important? He didn't think so.

Carlisle was right. Edward didn't judge because it didn't matter. He didn't talk about it to others, because it was no one's business and he pretended not to notice because if he did, he might start asking questions and if he started asking questions they might make him leave and there was no bit of knowledge or piece of information in the whole world that would make that worthwhile.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

_**For those that didn't do that math Edward is eleven years old in this chapter.**_

_**His comments directed at Eleazar about his age weren't without merit. I'm not sure that I'm taking any liberties with Eleazar's age, when I imagine him to be a little older, closer to thirty which would put him much older than most of the others and it's entirely possible that Carmen was a teenager when she was changed.**_

_**Edward's gift isn't hard to figure out, but Eleazar can only guess at the extent of it and he would have no way of knowing how it would evolve if Edward were changed into a vampire.**_

_**Since it wasn't overt I didn't add a warning, but did anyone else find Tanya's comments towards Edward creepy? They have no real relevance to the story but I thought it was a very Tanya thing to say.**_


	14. Bella's Secret

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**Sorry...so sorry for the long delay. As stated in my profile, I've been ill and had a tough tough time focusing on this story. I hope to update quicker going forward. I'll make excuses for the weakness of this chapter by saying I barely wrote a paragraph a day some days, so it might seem disjointed and not exceptionally thought provoking.**_

* * *

Edward's hand hurt and he pressed his battered knuckle against his mouth before he remembered that the superficial scrape had been treated with a distasteful antiseptic. He studied the injury closely and decided it hurt worse than it looked. He hadn't expected the pain, but then he never punched anyone before, not for real and certainly not full on in the face.

He thought he heard noise on the lower landing and cocked his head, listening carefully. It had been a full forty-five minutes since he and Esme had gotten home and he'd been sent to his room to wait for Carlisle. He wanted to tell Esme it wasn't his fault but it was hard to convince her of that when his victim was in the nurse's office sporting a bloody nose while he sat in a chair in the principal's office rubbing his tender knuckles and silently cursing himself for his stupidity.

He tried to offer an explanation on their short drive home, one that sounded completely reasonable to him, but she appeared unimpressed and her stern facial expression reflected in the rear view mirror, never changed. True he never mentioned that Mike was the foster brother that had tormented him during the year he lived on the reservation. He didn't like to think about that part of his life, safely buried under the good memories of his time with the Cullens and it wasn't like he hit Mike because of it, though it certainly was in the back of his mind.

He listened a minute longer, before deciding that the noise he heard wasn't Carlisle's footsteps coming up the stairs, not that he would hear them anyway, but sometimes if he listened hard he would hear movement though he never was really sure what was creating the sound.

He went into his bathroom and carefully reapplied the peroxide to his injured knuckles just as Carlisle had shown him. His scraped knuckles hadn't really bled but he could pick up the signs from Esme. Her pained expression when she spoke to him, the way she seemed to hold her breath in the car even after she rolled down the windows letting in the chilly winter air, all signs that precautionary steps were necessary.

He had come to the conclusion over time, that it wasn't the sight of blood that the Cullens objected to, but the smell; not that he noticed anything repugnant about the odor of blood or his in particularly, but it seemed to bother his adopted family in various degrees…well except for Carlisle. He tried not to be too self conscious about it, but every time he got a scrape or cut, he would race up to his bathroom and dig out the stinging medicine that would disguise the offensive odor and make his presence around his family members tolerable to them.

He didn't dwell on what his punishment would be. Years of living with the Cullens had reassured him that spankings would never be part of it, but then he had never hit anyone before or been suspended from school for the rest of the week and no one in his family had ever been forced to pick him up from the principal's office.

He knew the latter was the worst thing that could happen. Drawing attention from the authorities was a big no-no and given Esme's expression he knew that wasn't an exaggeration. She hadn't wanted to hear his excuses on the drive home, how Mike had provoked him, had tripped him in gym class when the teacher wasn't looking and knocked his books on the ground when they were in the hallway which had been the final straw in an entire month's worth of taunting from his nemesis who had left him alone for years only to start in on him again, now that they had both found themselves amongst the same group of friends.

He wished Emmett were around. Emmett got in more trouble than anyone Edward knew and if Emmett was there he might be able to offer some advice or at least let him know what to expect. Carlisle didn't usually punish him; that was Esme and Rosalie's job. But when Esme said, in a tight distant voice that Carlisle would be _having a talk with him_, he felt a knot in his stomach. Talks with Carlisle could be as bad as getting hit with the belt by George.

He never heard the car pull into the driveway, too distracted he guessed, by the beeps and hums of the PSP that he was using to entertain himself until Carlisle came up to issue his punishment. But the slam of a car door was enough to draw his attention. The Cullens didn't have visitors and unless Emmett and Rosalie were paying a surprise visit, an unexpected visitor might be just what was needed to distract Carlisle.

He jumped to his feet and ran to the window pressing his forehead against the glass and peering directly beneath him where the cars were usually parked. What he saw did not immediately register, but he felt it, that wave of terror, something he hadn't felt for years. not since he was little and lived with George and Karen. It filled his stomach like an unwelcomed meal and his first thought was to run to the bathroom before it was too late. Instead he swallowed the bile down and watched the scene unfold below him as if it were happening in slow motion.

The police car was parked in the driveway behind Esme's car. Charlie was already standing outside leaning against it, his arms crossed, his face glum. Carlisle was talking, Edward couldn't see his face but his hands moved in an exaggerated fashion. Esme was there too standing between the two men, her hand pressed against her lips, her face pained.

Then Charlie was talking. Edward wished he had the Cullens hearing ability, but he could only see his lips move and imagine what Charlie was saying. There was only one reason that Charlie would be parked in the driveway talking to Carlisle and he didn't have to think too long and hard about what that reason was. Police officers showed up at people's house for one reason and that was to take kids away, bad kids, the kind of kids that were so damaged that even their moms and dads had given up on them.

Would they send him to another foster home? Would he have to go to the group home again or maybe because he had actually hurt someone, he would be forced to go to a detention center. But Edward wasn't about to be sent anywhere. Not that he would have much of a choice. If the Cullens wanted him gone, he couldn't make them keep him, but that didn't mean that he had to go anywhere with Charlie.

He didn't stop and think about what he was going to do or where he was going to go or if he should consider packing anything. He didn't have much time. He already knew that Carlisle would invite Charlie into the house and then silently come up the stairs to his room, looking at him sadly, shaking his head, wishing there was some other way, because Carlisle would be sad, he was sure of that, but Edward had broken the one rule that no one ever talked about.

_He had jeopardized everything_.

He had gotten in trouble at school, bad trouble and the worst thing about it was it never occurred to him that he might until he saw Esme in the principal's office talking to the principal…_drawing attention_.

His room was on the third floor of the house and one full wall was covered with floor to ceiling windows.

Edward knew that the windows were actually doors, opening up to the outside and more importantly the roof, but they had long been nailed shut after he had followed Emmett onto the roof when he was still a little kid almost giving Esme a _heart attack_. So if he had any chance of getting away, he couldn't do it from his room.

But as he should have known, his decision to run wasn't one he could hide.

_Alice._

She always knew what he was about to do and there she was waiting at the end of the hallway when he ran out of his room, shaking her head sadly.

"Edward sweetie, what's wrong?"

He wanted to yell at her. Why was she pretending she didn't know? She knew, she knew everything and she had to know that he had been bad and now he was going to be sent away. Yet there she was pretending she didn't know why Charlie was there.

He spun around and ran for the back staircase. It would take him to Emmett's room and he knew Emmett's windows opened to the roof. From there he would just climb on the roof and jump into the trees, then down to the ground. But before he even reached the stairs he could see it was blocked by Jasper who looked perplexed, but no less resolved to stop him in his escape.

"What's wrong Edward?" Jasper said solemnly. "Why are you so upset?"

"You know," he replied, refusing to meet Jasper's eyes as he approached him cautiously. "Charlie's here."

Jasper looked over his head presumably at Alice. Edward felt himself relax a little. He knew that was because of Jasper. Whenever he was upset and Jasper was around, he always felt better. That was another one of those odd little traits that he noticed but didn't comment on.

"Did you hear something?" Jasper wasn't standing on the stairs anymore, he was standing right next to Edward and Edward didn't even flinch. He was use to it, the sudden appearance or disappearance of one of the Cullens; just another one of those things.

"He's here because of what I did today…and now I have to go." There would be no use pretending that he had any other choice.

Jasper frowned. "Do you honestly think that Carlisle or any of us would let anyone take you away from us?"

Edward sighed, a shaky rush of air escaping his lungs. "Charlie didn't come to take me…I'm being sent away." There was a gap between Jasper and the wall and Edward went for it without really considering that whether he ran away or was taken away, he would no longer be living with the Cullens, but at least he was in control.

He didn't even make it to the first step of the staircase and he wasn't sure he made it past Jasper at all or if he had even moved or just thought about moving, but the grip on his arm unrelenting in its power, was gentle in its touch yet no amount of pulling on his part could loosen it.

"Edward you're wrong…no one is sending you away," Jasper said smiling weakly down at him.

Edward might have been reassured by the words if the look on Jasper's face wasn't so pained…such a contradiction.

"You can't know that. I hit someone at school. Esme was mad. I did the one thing I wasn't suppose to do."

Jasper's expression had turned to confusion, but before he could speak Edward burst out in a childlike tone. "_I drew attention_."

And with that, Jasper released him. He understood.

Edward ran down the stairs taking two at a time ignoring Alice's heavy sigh, not thinking beyond getting out of the house and trying not to cry. He didn't think about where he was going or what he was going to do, he only thought about reaching the back door and running away from that police car that would take him back to his past, the last place he wanted to go.

But he only managed to reach the bottom of the stairs and make the turn towards the back door.

"Edward where are you going?"

And then it was too late.

Carlisle was right behind him. Close enough to reach out and grab him if he wanted too. There would be no getting away, but had that ever really been a possibility. It was over than. He wouldn't try to run from Carlisle, he wouldn't even voice his fear. He would let the inevitable happen and he would try his best not to do anything to make any of them feel guilty. It was his fault anyway.

"No where," he replied. So why was he lying? He turned to face Carlisle and the look on his face didn't reassure him.

"I think we should go in my study," Carlisle said solemnly. "We need to talk."

"I know."

He moved slowly, as slowly as was humanly possible, but Carlisle waited patiently, didn't rush him and followed him down the long hall to Carlisle's office that before now, he only had ever played in. He wasn't surprised to see Esme sitting in one of the big leather chairs in front of Carlisle's desk, but Charlie was nowhere in sight.

"Where is Char…Chief Swan," he mumbled sitting next to Esme in the other chair.

"Ahhh is that what this is about? You saw him then?"

He nodded his head.

"Charlie isn't here. He couldn't stay."

That surprised Edward and he looked up meeting Carlisle's golden eyes. He had not taken a position behind his desk and instead sat on the edge of it crossing his arms. Maybe it took a few days to find a place for him to go.

"I'm in trouble," he said resolutely, looking at Esme for confirmation.

But Esme looked distracted and when she glanced at him, her expression was thoughtful, like she was trying to remember what he was talking about and when she did, he saw the realization plainly on her face. But she hadn't been thinking about it until he reminded her. How weird.

"Are you talking about school?" Carlisle said slowly.

"I hit someone. He's a bully he deserved it." Edward had meant to sound contrite and regretful, but he couldn't help the defiance that slipped from his lips.

"Yes well, I'm well aware of the history you share with that boy, and you're probably right, he did deserve it, but you can't go around hitting people Edward, do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"But Edward that's not why you here." Carlisle cocked his head slightly and his face revealed his understanding. "….wait…do you think that was why Charlie was here? Did you think you were in trouble?

Edward nodded and before he could stop himself he blurted. "I thought he was coming to take me away."

He heard a little intake of breath from Esme but he didn't look at her. He didn't want to see the disappointment on her face. It was hard enough to meet Carlisle's pained expression. They hated his insecurities and blamed themselves whenever he overreacted to a situation. Why couldn't he just believe that they loved him and wouldn't send him away just because he did something wrong. His panic, his fear, his need to run, just another big overreaction. He was an idiot.

"Edward," Esme whispered.

"I know…I know…I can't help it." And he couldn't. No matter how many times it happened, he could never stop himself from believing that one day he would be forced to leave.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Edward and there might be consequences for those mistakes but those consequences will never include you leaving us. I don't know how I can reassure you of that. Nothing you could do would make us send you away or let anyone take you away from us," Carlisle said, his voice calm and steady but Edward could hear the weariness in it.

He sighed and nodded, like he had done so many times in the past but then he remembered Charlie and glanced quickly at Esme then back to Carlisle again.

"Why was Charlie here?"

Carlisle looked away. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Again Edward felt his insides tighten. But he would not blame himself, he would not think it was about him and above all else he would not assume that Charlie's visit spelled trouble for him. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

"We do have some bad news Edward." Carlisle sighed and leaned forward like he was going to reveal a secret.

Edward swallowed a lump in his throat. He felt Esme's hand on his arm. He didn't have to worry about exaggerating his fear now; Carlisle and Esme's behavior dictated his response and no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his biggest fear, the single most anxiety he felt over the years could not be left unspoken.

"I don't want to live anywhere else." His voice hitched a little and there it was again, his irrational fear in direct odds with Carlisle's reassurances.

"Oh sweetie, that's not it…that's not it at all. You won't have to live anywhere else…ever." Esme said, her fingers curling around his wrist as she leaned toward him.

But Edward remained unconvinced and shrugged off Esme's attempt to hug him.

"Edward…Charlie was here sharing some bad news about Bella."

Edward gasped. For a moment all his other fears and insecurities faded away. "What happened to Bella….what happened?" He jumped up from his chair his hands clenched at his side.

"Easy Edward," Carlisle's hands gripped his shoulders holding him in place. "Bella is fine, she's fine. But Edward…her mother…her mother is dead."

Edward let out the air in his lungs in one long shaky breath. Bella was fine…she was fine…that's what Carlisle said. He almost wanted to cry with relief, but then he remembered the reason for Charlie's visit.

Bella's mom was dead.

* * *

Edward was surprised to see Charlie's house filled with people when he arrived with Carlisle and Esme, though he supposed it made sense. Charlie was the Chief of Police. He knew a lot of people in town and had a lot of friends. They were there to comfort him. Even if Renee was his ex-wife, he had loved her once and he had to feel sad now that she was gone.

Carlisle and Esme had stayed for a while, but Edward didn't think Esme knew Charlie at all and Carlisle wasn't exactly his friend. They left after the Quileutes showed up. Edward didn't try to guess why Billy glared at Carlisle. No one disliked Carlisle, but obviously Billy did. So now he was he alone in the house with adults he didn't know and friends he hadn't played with since he was a little white kid living on the reservation.

He wanted to talk to Bella. That was why he was there and the reason he insisted on staying when Carlisle and Esme left. But Bella was surrounded by people, a bunch of do gooders that didn't know Bella and were only there because of Charlie. But Bella wasn't talking…not really. She was sitting in a chair in the living room staring out the window nodding occasionally when someone asked her a question, but otherwise just ignoring all the people in the room like she was all alone. Jacob was there, trying to talk to her and she did lean over and whisper something to him from time to time.

Edward wanted to rush over to them and interrupt their private moment ignoring his own resolve to bide his time. It upset him to see Bella confide in Jacob, when it was he, Edward that she should be depending on. He couldn't put his finger on the exact nature of his distress. It wasn't anger exactly; there would be no reason to be angry. Jacob was Bella's friend just like he was. During Bella's summer visits she would spend more time with him then Edward. It made sense since Charlie and Billy were friends and he hadn't let it bother him but maybe that was because he was never around when Jacob and Bella were together so watching them now made him uncomfortable.

He didn't know how long he hovered around Bella waiting for first Jacob to leave with Billy then gradually, one at a time, the rest of the adults. It wasn't until almost everyone had left before Charlie finally noticed him and appeared surprised that he was still there. He even looked little relieved.

"Why don't you and Bella go up to her room while I clean up around here," he said looking first at Bella who was paying no attention to either of them, then back at him. "But it's getting late, so only an hour and then I'm going to call Carlisle to come and get you."

An hour wasn't very long considering he'd been waiting all day to talk to Bella but he wasn't going to argue. It was better than nothing.

"Come on Bella. I'll help you unpack your boxes."

Bella nodded and without saying anything to Charlie she got up from the chair she'd been huddled in all evening and headed upstairs followed closely by Edward.

"Shut the door," she said softly when they were inside her room and Edward did so reluctantly. Charlie liked the door kept open.

There were several boxes pushed against the wall that hadn't been there before; all of Bella's things. She was moving to Forks permanently and would never go back to Arizona again.

It had been a struggle for Edward not to appear happy about the change in Bella's circumstances. It was wrong to feel happy that she was here to stay because the reason behind it was so sad, but sometimes when he was alone in his room away from the knowing stares of Carlisle and Esme, he would allow himself a moment of pure joy in imagining Bella with him all the time; going to school with him, playing with him after school and on weekends and no longer having to dread the time when she would leave him again and return home to her mother.

He never commented about his happiness over his good luck to anyone. He knew it was wrong to feel that way, not only wrong, but evil and he would never tell Bella that, especially seeing how devastated she was, but he couldn't help feeling it all the same.

The boxes held mostly knickknacks of a little girl, one he didn't associate with Bella; cute little unicorns, dolls that didn't look played with, Barbie dolls still in their boxes; only the stuffed animals looked like they had gotten any attention.

As Edward pulled each item from the box he would hold it up to Bella who would either nod her head if she wanted it or shake her head if she didn't for which he would return it back to the box and would pull the next item out.

She didn't speak or acknowledge him in any other way and that made him nervous. Her beautiful brown hair hung over her face as she sat on the edge of her bed her skinny legs hanging off the end of it, her tennis shoe thumping rhythmically against the side of it.

Edward didn't know what to say to comfort her, so he just kept pulling her belongings from the boxes and holding them up, tossing most of her childhood memories back in the box to be packed away again.

When he tried to comment about a certain toy or book or ask a question about it she would ignore his comments so he just stopped asking.

Eventually Charlie came upstairs and said they had fifteen minutes. Alice was on her way to pick him up. He tried to smile at Edward but his eyes were only on Bella who didn't acknowledge her dad at all. He didn't say anything about the door being closed and even closed it again when he left the room. Edward felt bad. He knew he let Charlie down. If he couldn't get through to Bella, then who would? With only fifteen minutes left, he was at a loss for what to do next.

As it turns out he didn't have to do anything, because just after Charlie left, Bella finally moved, sliding from the bed and joining him cross legged on the floor next to the stack of boxes. He sighed with relief and placed his hand on her knee tentatively. She did not pull away and even looked up brushing her hair from her face.

"I need to tell you something Edward, something important, but you can't tell anyone…not anyone and that means Emmett… okay," she said in a hushed voice covering his hand with one of her own.

Edward stared at the closed door suddenly wanting Charlie to come back, but he could feel Bella studying him intently and he tried to keep his face neutral. When he started to nod his head she gripped his hand painfully.

"I mean it Edward…you can't tell anyone…not anyone."

"Bella, you know I won't…I…"

"I know how you are…I know you would if it meant not getting in trouble."

"What? Bella what are you talking about?" But he knew. Bella knew him better than he knew himself.

"You're afraid…you're always afraid," Bella said, her voice growing louder. "You'll tell if you think Carlisle will send you away if you don't."

"I…I…no I won't." He lied.

She nodded at him sympathetically, but her voice hardened. "You can't tell anyone even if it means you'll be sent away."

He gasped. "What are you saying Bella? I would never get to see you again if they sent me to live with someone else. There's no guarantee I'd go to the same school."

"You can't tell anyone and if you can't promise me that then I can't tell you and just forget I said anything," she said stubbornly and let go of his hand. "Don't make a promise you can't keep."

Edward felt the familiar knot form in his stomach. His fear of being sent away was always there, always lingering in the back of his mind and now Bella brought it right out in the open. But he tried…he tried again to be rational. Could a simple secret too big to tell anyone get him sent away? He didn't think so, not really and he was doing Bella no favors by letting his irrational fears interfere with his support of her

"I promise I won't tell anyone, even if it means they will send me away," he finally said, hoping she couldn't hear the quiver in his voice.

"Okay…good…good." Then she smiled a little and patted his hand. "It's important that no one finds out because we don't know who we can trust."

"Huh?"

"It's you and me Edward…just you and me. No one else. I can't trust anyone else."

"You could trust your dad."

Bella shook her head, making no move to brush away the hair that fell across her face this time, peering at him through her heavy bangs. "No, I don't think so Edward. I don't think I can trust him at all. He's a police officer."

Edward felt that knot in his belly twist. "What does that have to do with anything? Bella he's your dad, you can trust him."

"That's easy for you to say, but you don't trust Carlisle."

"I do…I trust him."

"No…no you don't. Not really. You always worry that one day he'll send you away."

"That's different Bella." Edward sighed. "Charlie's your dad. Carlisle's not my dad. They are just keeping me as a foster kid. I can be sent away any time they say so. Your dad can't send you away."

"Your dad did," Bella said smugly.

Edward winced. It wasn't like Bella to be cruel and maybe she wasn't trying to be, but she didn't look apologetic; in fact the blank facial expression that had clung to her face for the majority of the day was gone and now she was animated and engaged.

"He…I don't think he sent me away." To be honest Edward didn't know how he ended up living with the Cullens and he didn't ask. No reason to rock the boat.

"Well, whatever. But it just goes to show you can't trust anyone, not even your own dad," Bella said, haughtily .

"What's the secret?" Edward didn't want to talk about his dad or Bella's dad or Carlisle and why they couldn't be trusted. Bella usually didn't act like such a girl with silly little secrets so he knew whatever it was she had to tell him was a big deal.

"Well you heard how my mom died right?"

"Yeah…Carlisle said carbon monoxide… that she fell asleep in the car with it running and she was poisoned."

"Yeah, that's right…that's the story…anyway." Bella didn't sound like the sad daughter grieving her mother's death now. She sounded cheerful, even eager to talk about it.

Suddenly Edward didn't want to know the truth, would have been perfectly happy with believing the story and for just a instant he wanted to get up and run downstairs and outside to wait for Alice on the porch, but he couldn't do that to Bella. He wouldn't be much of a friend if he did that and he didn't want to give anyone like Jacob Black for example, the opportunity to become her best friend now that she was finally here in Forks.

"So what's the truth?"

"The truth is it wasn't an accident. The police said it was a suicide, that she did it on purpose."

Edward nodded. He wasn't surprised. He knew people killed themselves with carbon monoxide and he was suspicious right from the start when Carlisle told him how Bella's mom had died. He hadn't said anything. He didn't need details from Carlisle and he didn't need details from Bella. It wasn't his business anyway and if nothing else, he knew there were some things better left unsaid. The only emotion that he was cognizant of feeling with her news was relief. The dread that had momentarily touched his belly had lifted. As far as secrets went, this one wasn't that bad.

But he had to pretend the news was as profound as Bella made it out to be. "Why would she do that?"

Bella shook her head sadly, but there was an glint in her eye. "That's what the police said, but that's not what happened. They got it all wrong. They got it all wrong right from the start. She didn't want to kill herself. She wasn't like that. Even if it was for the best, she didn't want to die."

Edward pulled his hand out from under Bella's and rubbed his eyes. It was getting late. Alice would be coming to get him at any time. But he had a feeling it wouldn't be soon enough. "Why would it be for the best. Was she sick?"

Bella looked at him as a mother might an innocent child and it made Edward uncomfortable. He and Bella had always shared a special bond, a kinship an understanding of the hardships that they'd both endured, his more so than hers, but still he felt closer to no one as she tried to empathize with him, his feelings of abandonment, his fears of never quite being good enough and she never made him feel inferior to her. But he felt it now and he sighed heavily when she failed to respond immediately.

"Bella you need to tell me what's going on. If you don't tell me I can't help you."

"What makes you think I need help?" Bella sniffed and rose from the floor stuffing another childhood remnant in a box to be discarded later.

"I can just tell, this isn't just about a secret. You need to tell me. Alice will be here to get me soon."

"Alright…alright." She agreed, plopping herself down again. " Like I said, my mom didn't kill herself not like they said…like the police said, like they told Charlie. She couldn't kill herself. It wasn't her fault…she wasn't very strong."

"It was an accident then Bella, she just forgot to turn off the car and fell asleep." Edward thought maybe Bella's mom had been drinking, like George did…or his dad did, but he didn't think it was polite to mention that.

"It wasn't an accident ED…_WARD_." Bella emphasized the WARD and glared at him, leaving him speechless.

"My MOTHER didn't kill herself and she didn't die accidently."

Edward's eyes widened. He finally got it. "Someone killed her?"

Bella looked relieved and nodded, taking his hand in both of hers.

"Who Bella, do you know who would do that…how do you know…are you sure?" Edward sputtered.

"Oh I'm sure."

"How do you know…how are you sure."

"Because I did it, Edward. I killed her. I killed my mother."

At least Bella had the decency to look sad about it.

* * *

**_The next chapter will be from seventeen year old Edward's POV. I think I will be able to relate to him better which hopefully will translate into a quicker turnaround time._**

**_Thank you for reading._**


	15. A Different Path

_**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**_

_**WARNING: Plenty of angst and some of the content will be insulting to those with disabilities. **_

_**So I'm a liar. I thought…I was positive I would get this chapter out quickly. Well two months later and even that was a struggle. I can only blame my illness. I guess I'm distracted. But if it continues at this rate, even the vampires will be old by the time this story is complete.**_

_**Now a reminder…this chapter is back in the hospital with seventeen year old Edward. He was just about ready to go into surgery after making Carlisle promise not to change him. Let's see if Carlisle kept that promise.**_

* * *

**_Edward's POV_**

Click-clack…click-clack…click-clack.

The sound drew me like a moth to a flame and I clung to it, desperately wanting to find a way out of the abyss of blackness that stretched on endlessly, the thickness of the air oppression and suffocating reminding me of the stagnant air in a stuffy tent on a hot summer night.

Eventually, I was able to identify that sound, so maddening in its repetitiveness, only varying in volume and clarity and as much as that noise held no relevance to my situation, I clung to it, hoping it would lead me to a consciousness that was much preferable to the disorienting void that I languished in and toward the less defined but more familiar static of sounds that should have resonated with more than a random sound of noisy footsteps.

And then, as the sound, that single unremarkable click clack…click clack of women's high heeled shoes on a hard tile floor, faded away to nothing; the rumbling began. Slowly at first then faster and faster, louder and louder, culminating into a deafening roar; and with it came a tidal wave of water crushing me, making it impossible for me to breathe or hear or concentrate on anything else. I was overcome by it, caught up in it, tossed and turned and battered in a wave of water that I couldn't feel, but that pummeled me none the less. I tried to gasp for air, but the water invaded my lungs and I was unable to draw in a breath, unable to cry out for help to the voices that were still just whispers, but growing louder, more coherent, more familiar as they called out to me above the roaring torrent of water.

Just when I thought my panic…my terror of the unknown assailant that pummeled my body, couldn't get worse, it did get worse. I felt it, the heat, an intense burning; the water was scalding my body. I was being boiled alive and still I floundered, unable to right myself, unable to find air, unable to escape the bubbling caldron that I found myself in, my arms and legs refusing to obey the simplest commands.

So I let go, just let go, hoping my lack of resistance would set me on a course of relief from the torture of the heat and the pressure from the water and the inability to breathe and I could sink back into a oblivion that I had just come from before being enticed from it by the click-clack of women's shoes.

"Edward."

_That voice. _

I knew that voice and as confirmation, I felt the touch of his ice cold hand against my face. Shuddering a little, I welcomed it against my burning flesh and was only sorry that I couldn't engulf myself completely in the coldness.

"Edward, I know you can hear me, open your eyes, son."

The roaring hadn't subsided, but it was less intrusive and I was able to focus on the calm self-assured voice that beckoned me, encouraged me to let my embattled unconsciousness go.

"Can't breathe…" I managed to gasp.

"Carlisle!"

"Can't…"

"Edward, let the ventilator do it for you. Stop struggling…you're okay…just relax."

"Drowning…water…can't breathe."

"Carlisle!"

"Esme, the machine breathes for him. He's just confused. Talk to him…he can hear you."

Another hand on my face, this one as equally soothing… cold, hard, yet with a contradictory softness.

"Edward, sweetie, it's okay. We're here, all of us are here. Can you hear me? You can breathe, just listen to my voice and relax."

The voices were louder now, louder than the roaring and I heard other things. Things I'd grown accustomed too, sounds I hadn't wanted to hear again, noises that brought me back; the whooshing…the beeping. Sounds that I half expected would be gone should I ever open my eyes again. But they were there and with that I could hear someone else talking, someone in the back ground, trying to be quiet but not succeeding; the baritone of his voice reverberating through the room.

"Hey bro…take it easy. Hospitals freak me out enough without seeing you gulping for air like a fish out of water."

"Emmett!"

"Hey babe, I can't help it; hospitals and our kind don't mix. The blood…that smell."

"Emmett, there is no fresh blood anywhere near us."

"Yeah Carlisle, but it's the idea of blood and I can smell it…the old stuff. Can't you?"

"Rosalie, would you take Emmett outside for a walk."

"I think he can find his own way outside."

I was concentrating on them and forgot that I couldn't breathe, forgot that I had to breathe. Carlisle was right; the machine did it for me. It was better; there was no roaring…no burning…no smothering. The air was rushing in, filling my lungs and with no effort on my part, being expelled again.

But I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to see them. They hadn't been a part of my life for several months and I hadn't expected them to all return; yet there they were and I sucked it in, every word of their conversation.

"Is it better, sweetheart? Can you breathe now?"

Esme's soft lilting voice filled my ears like the music from finely tuned musical instrument. I could smell the sweetness of her breath and knew she hovered over me. I felt tears prick at the corner of my eyes. Now that I was back from whereever I'd been, I understood where I was, why I was there and how I had come to be there and I wanted to feel angry. I wanted that anger to consume me so I could open my mouth and banish them from my life as they had done me, make them hurt like they had hurt me. I wanted to do it, but I just couldn't find the words and when I felt Esme's icy lips touch my forehead, I felt the betrayal of a single tear as it slid down my cheek.

I tried to nod my head in response to her question, but I couldn't move, I still couldn't move. Nothing had changed. I was still stuck in the broken shell of a body that would never be whole again. I was vaguely aware of Esme's hands against my face, the pressure of her lips against my forehead, in my hair and the soft little unintelligible whispers that needed no clarification and were simple expressions of her love.

I wasn't sure how long I was subject to her adoration, too absorbed in the contemplation that Carlisle had kept his promise, had saved me through surgery alone if saved was the right word; hadn't resorted to giving me an eternal life that I purported not to want. I had no time to consider whether it was what I truly desired, but eventually I knew I needed an explanation, needed confirmation that the surgery was a success insomuch as it could be and I forced my eyes open, looking beyond Esme's strained face to Carlisle who was standing next to her, his face curiously twisted in pain as he watched her mother over me.

"Guess it was…a success."

Carlisle's eyes flickered to mine and he smiled sadly. "Yes, I'm afraid I impressed the entire surgical team with my skill. They've offered me a job here at the hospital if I want it."

"Too bad…you've overstayed…your time in this…part of the…country."

"Remember, we left a little early. It wouldn't raise any suspicions if we stayed."

"He shouldn't have given you a choice." Rosalie was standing just beyond him, arms crossed, her expression obstinate.

"Rosalie, please." Esme's admonishment came out weakly. She was no longer leaning over me, but her fingers continued to stroke my face.

"I'm serious. This nonsense. Leaving him this way…he would be changed by now…"

…and burning in agony," Carlisle interrupted.

"That didn't stop you from changing me." Rosalie spat. I was surprised by her fury and guessed Carlisle had not had an easy time justifying his conciliation to my request.

"I was able to give him a choice; he chose to remain as he was, understanding the consequences. I couldn't force him against his will."

"…and how is this better? How is living like this any better? You should have just killed him on the operating table."

"Rosalie!" Esme and Carlisle's shocked voices chorused together.

I squinted at my adopted sister who was as much like a mother to me as Esme was. She was angry, furious at Carlisle. Apparently her opinion of the quality of my life as a cripple was about as bad as my own.

"So Edward, is this just another act of rebellion, another chance to hurt us? Did you choose to remain this way just so you could get back at us?"

Rosalie's question caught me off guard. It was astute of her to come to that conclusion, but one I hadn't honestly considered until she said it out loud. Was I doing this to punish them? I would be an idiot to admit it, so I didn't think on it too hard. There was so much I wanted to say to Rosalie in that moment. She should have been my biggest defender, not bound by the pragmatism of her mate as Esme was; a free spirit and strongly protective of those she loved which I thought included me. Regardless of how reckless it was, she shouldn't have left. She had no fear of Carlisle; she would and often did defy him. I wanted to remind her of that, but I was finding it increasingly difficult to stay focused on the conversation around me. Too many voices…the lights were too bright…the pain that I had only just become aware of was starting to get my attention. I wondered how long I'd been out of surgery.

"You left…me. You were…suppose to protect….me but you left…me." I mumbled. Hardly the decisive argument I wanted to make, but it produced the desired effect and I felt a small bit of satisfaction when Rosalie visibly recoiled.

"And this is your way of getting back at us?"

"Maybe. Is it working?" I smiled when she frowned.

"Edward, sweetie, please you must forgive us for that. It was never, ever our intention to leave you, but we had no other choice." Esme's voice, weepy.

I didn't reply. Hurting Esme wasn't something I relished doing and I felt slightly ashamed of my behavior, but only briefly, until Carlisle spoke.

"He knows that. He knows at the time we had no other choice, no other option."

"Sure…sure…well things…sure turned out…peachy didn't…they? Now that you fixed…me up…you can just go…I don't need…you here."

Esme's hand pressed possessively against my cheek and I unconsciously rubbed against it.

"I think we're going to wait until you are more stable before we have that conversation again," Carlisle said wearily.

"Not like I…can stop you."

And I didn't really want to stop them. Not now anyway. Not with Esme humming against my ear; not when I heard Carlisle scold Rosalie and not when I was briefly startled by a gruff snort from Emmett who had decided to return to my bedside at some point. I was drifting again, slipping away, but it wasn't like before. This time, the air felt cool and crisp and though it was dark, there was no heat, just a warmth, like a cozy blanket had been wrapped around me and I was being held, suspended by it, my body casually embraced by the darkness that had now become my escape.

* * *

In the days following my surgery, I began to realize what exactly I had condemned myself to; what it felt like to be completely and totally paralyzed with no hope of every walking, scratching an itch, feeding myself or even breathing on my own, again. I'm not sure why I was only facing that reality now. It might have been the familiarity of having my family around me, reminding me what I once had, what I lost and could never get back again. But whatever made me face my situation, absorbing the consequences of not only my action to jump off that cliff that day, but the decisions that would leave me in this state of perpetual stillness for the rest of my life, it generated a depression so rank, so filled with despair, I could barely find the will to participate in the most simple conversations and I struggled to find any meaning to an existence that left me as helpless as a newborn baby.

Carlisle tried to deflect the worst of my prognosis, always pointing out the best possible outcome. After a few days of indulging Dr Carthage's hypothesis on the potential for regaining any movement or sensation beyond what I had now, he began exerting more and more control over my medical treatment and rehabilitation plan. He would contradict the doctor often, using his vast and endless medical knowledge, leaving his colleague frustrated and at a loss for words. His optimism appeared grounded in real knowledge and occasionally I felt a fluttering of hope that would only last as long as he was at my side, recognizing in his absence that any physical victories would amount to little more than being able to take a few breaths on my own or move my head or a shoulder enough to allow me to operate the controls of a wheelchair.

Nothing escaped Carlisle's attention and for the first time I got some sense of his exceptional skill as a physician and how his supernatural gifts gave him a significant advantage over his human counterparts. When I felt ill, but not so much so that I could verbalize any specific symptoms, it was Carlisle that determined through his extraordinary sense of smell that I had an infection growing around my trach. Before I even noticed that I was drawing in shorter and shorter breaths, it was he that could hear the sloshing of fluid around my lungs as pneumonia took hold and alerted the hated respiratory therapist, subjecting me to several minutes of torture as the fluid was suctioned from my lungs.

While Carlisle took care of the medical aspects of my care, Esme tried to fill my emotional needs. Unfortunately, her face often reflected the guilt that she undoubtedly carried with her, blaming herself for my injury as only a mother could and I was inundated with my own guilt and shame reminded how I had fantasized about hurting her and the rest of them those first few days in the hospital.

I saw little of Emmett who found the sights and smells of the hospital too disconcerting to tolerate for extended periods of time and I always felt relieved when he left. Emmett was my buddy, my best friend the big brother who I had always looked up too even though he was years, even decades older if I took into consideration his vampire years. Our closeness was never based on expressing emotions or engaging in deep lengthy conversations. I had nothing to offer Emmett anymore and I was embarrassed by my pathetic physical condition with him more than anyone else.

Unfortunately Emmett's sporadic visits didn't keep Rosalie away and where I could tolerate Esme's quiet tending, I was less tolerant of Rosalie whose bitchiness was frightening off the nurse's aides leaving her to take care of some of my more personal needs which was humiliating for me even as she insisted she was more capable then the incompetent idiots that had kept me alive to that point.

Alice's visits depressed me. Her vivacious personality was muted, her sparkling eyes dulled and she found little to occupy her busy hands, the confines of the hospital room more pronounced, my lifeless body a sharp contrast to her active one. She would also get that look on her face from time to time and I knew she was seeing my future or trying to. It brought me no comfort. There was no relief on her face, no revelation that this hell I was in would end and if there were any hope in her eyes it was quickly squelched by pensive thoughtfulness or outright confusion as her visions failed to predict my future.

When I questioned her on it, she would frown and shake her head, suggesting that any visions of me were undefined or just plain confusing. I suspected her visions kept her away more than the rest, that and the fact that Jasper couldn't come to see me, the temptations that a hospital offered, too much for him to endure. Open wounds, injuries, blood; not a conducive environment for a vampire that struggled with his thirst. Instead I got to see his commitment to me through video conferencing. He looked uncomfortable and his eyes flickered away from the screen. We didn't talk often.

With the pain of being thrust back into a life that was a shadow of what it had been before my injury, I still saw the benefits of having my family back even if my whole world now consisted of a small hospital room with one small north facing window that caught no sunlight. I'd been moved from the intensive care exactly seven days after surgery and the privacy for myself and more importantly my vampire family though convenient also emphasized just how much I had to rely on others to keep me alive.

One of my biggest fears was being unable to breathe and it wasn't unjustified. My ventilator was prone to pop offs, the connections of hoses attached to it would just detach or spring a leak and unable to draw a breath on my own, I would come face to face with the death I so desperately wanted.

Unlike holding my breath under water, there would be no air left in me when I exhaled that final time other than what was in the nooks and crannies of my lungs and so I would be left waiting for someone to notice, feeling just as Emmett had implied the day I woke up, like a fish out of water, until the leak was found and fixed. It had happened a few times when I was still in the intensive care unit before the surgery and before my family was back at my side. An alarm would sound after I missed two breaths, alerting the nurses who usually responded quickly to the life threatening emergency.

But they were no longer fifteen feet from me; the nursing station was down the hall and I could never be sure how well they were paying attention. So the first time it happened after I was moved, I was left struggling to breathe, my peripheral vision fading to black, the first telltale sign I was dying. I wasn't surprised when the first person at my side was Carlisle. Seconds later, the hose reattached, my breathing restored, two nurses appeared at my door, at first bewildered that I wasn't under duress, their expressions changed to shame then fear as Carlisle glowered at them.

Each occurrence was no less terrifying than the last, being unable to breathe and knowing that unless someone noticed, I would be dead in minutes. Not that I was afraid of dying, but when I wasn't in control, when I saw spots dance across my eyes just before I passed out, it wasn't peaceful, not in the way I envisioned. But after the first few pop offs, that didn't happen anymore because I was never left alone. Someone was always nearby and since whoever that someone was could move so fast that no human being including myself could see them, I was never left in limbo for more than a few seconds before oxygen was restored and the face of one of them would peer down at me anxiously, making sure that I was breathing again.

* * *

"Where's Bella?" I managed to croak out ten days after my surgery when I opened my eyes to find myself alone in the room. But I knew I wasn't alone. I was never alone anymore.

Unfortunately it was Rosalie's turn to babysit me and she sighed heavily without answering.

"Are you…keeping her from…me? I want to see…Bella." I tried to make my voice more forceful, but the ventilator left it sounding breathless and weak.

"We aren't keeping you from her…Charlie is just being paranoid as usual. He says it's too soon." Rosalie mumbled, from somewhere beyond my view.

"Too soon? Too soon…for what. Nothing's going to…change. I'm not…going to just…jump up and start…walking any…time soon."

"He wants to see what rehab will do. He thinks once you're up in the chair it will be better for her."

I scowled.

They…my doctors…Carlisle…had been trying to convince me to try my brand new high tech wheelchair that was parked against the wall next to my bed, taunting me for two days now, but I stubbornly resisted. Facing it, facing rehab, just reminded me what I was, paralyzed from the neck down, a C2 complete facture. No chance to regain anything but the most minimal movement in my neck and maybe my shoulders. No chance to ever breathe on my own again. Forced to have someone attend to my every need, my every bodily function for the rest of my miserable life.

"You're just…fucking with me. All…of you. You're…blackmailing me. Either…I let you get me…in that chair or…you're going to…keep Bella from…me," I said bitterly, staring at the ceiling.

And then I was staring at Rosalie's face and she didn't look happy.

"Leaving you for six months in the company of those…those…boys on the reservation certainly hasn't improved your language any."

"Then leave. No one…is asking you…to stay," I said, more contritely then I intended.

"I have nothing to do with Bella not coming to see you. That's Charlie's condition." Rosalie sat on the end of the bed, mindful of all the tubes that made any type of physical closeness always a challenge. "Why are you being so difficult about this wheelchair thing? They are going to get you in it whether you want to or not."

I didn't say anything. How could I? The chair scared me more than I cared to admit. In the bed I was safe. I was hooked up to the ventilator, my life support and I knew what to expect. I didn't have to worry about being dropped by one of the aides that would move me from bed to chair or risk falling if the chair tipped over. I didn't have to worry that the portable ventilator would fail or they wouldn't get it hooked up properly or the battery on it would die. I didn't have any responsibilities, like trying to move when I couldn't move or trying to breathe on my own when everyone knew I never would. I didn't have to do anything but lie there.

"Edward, I don't think Charlie will budge on this. If you want to see Bella, you need to be in that chair."

I closed my eyes and ignored Rosalie until eventually she gave up trying to talk to me and when I opened my eyes sometime later she was no longer sitting next to me, but I knew I wasn't alone. She was there…one of them was there…they always were.

* * *

"Dinner time, Edward." A cheerful voice startled me as I tried to doze.

Pretending to sleep wouldn't dissuade them. I already knew that. They would just wake me up. No respect. But I needed to eat. I had lost ten pounds during my time in the hospital and it was weight I could ill afford to lose. The nutrition being pumped in me via my gastric tube kept me alive but it could not put on weight. A test confirmed that my swallowing mechanism worked, but eating was a challenge. Food made me sick, especially the smell of it and I found it almost intolerable; even my favorite meals made me retch. By resisting attempts to feed me, I could usually get off with eating the bare minimum when I finally surrendered and gagged down a few mouthfuls. The aides saw it as a victory, never taking into consideration how little I was actually eating. That worked until Esme took over the responsibility of feeding me.

I'd always been a good eater as a child, especially when I realized that I was only one in the Cullen household that actually ate all the food that Esme prepared at mealtimes. I had never had to be forced or coerced into eating and so no one studied my eating habits too closely making sure that I was getting enough to sustain my human body.

But now, because I was completely helpless and had absolutely no appetite, they were forced to address my food intake as they never had to in the past.

"I'll take care of that," Esme said, magically appearing out of nowhere and taking the tray of food from a startled nurse's aide and placing it on the small table next to me.

"I'm not…hungry."

"You need to eat, Edward."

"Why don't you…try it? It tastes like…shit."

Esme rolled her eyes. "We can order something in; what would you like?"

I didn't answer. I had tried pizza; that was an embarrassing mess. Chinese, my favorite, same problem; more food on my face then in my mouth. My taste buds had adapted. I now ate what was the easiest for them to feed me. Taste was no longer part of the equation.

The Salisbury steak, whipped potatoes and steamed carrots weren't messy. I could gag it down and hopeful avoid having my face wiped when I was done.

Esme raised the bed. Since the surgery, I was no longer in traction so I spent part of my day sitting up in bed. But even that was not without risks and my blood pressure had to be closely monitored. There was talk of putting special socks called T.E.D's on my legs, forcing the blood from my legs where it wasn't needed, but so far I resisted. They reminded me of women's support hose.

"Carlisle said they want to move you to the wheelchair tomorrow morning." Esme said, cutting at the rubbery meat.

I felt my heart skip a beat and I bit my lip.

"Doesn't make sense…to go through… all that work…for a couple of…hours. I can just…sit in bed."

"You have to start somewhere." She held the fork to my lips and I obediently opened my mouth. It was amazing how quickly I had accepted that I would need to be fed like a baby for the rest of my life.

"Why? I don't need…to be in a chair. I…can't move anything…anyway," I said after quickly swallowing down the dead flesh of some undefined part of a cow. I retched a little and Esme frowned.

_Can't get sick….can't get sick. _

"Is it alright? I can get you something else. We could have Alice stop and pick something up."

"It's fine." I opened my mouth and Esme used my compliancy to shovel another fork full of _meat _into it.

"You shouldn't discount what you can do in your wheelchair. Carlisle said with some rehabilitation, you might even be able to start college in the spring. You don't want to be confined to a bed for the rest of your life do you?"

I didn't answer. It wasn't lost on me how she referred to that chair as mine. It was the closest I would get to ever being able to drive anything again. I should have been grateful that the Cullens could afford to buy me that hunk of metal. Motorized wheelchairs, especially those for quadriplegics on ventilators were expensive. I was an unappreciative cripple.

"Do you wish…Carlisle would..have changed me?"

My question caught Esme off guard and her hand stopped, suspended in the air, the fork loaded with carrots, too far away for me to reach.

"I…I…wouldn't have wanted him to do anything against your will," she finally said, but her eyes didn't meet mine. She was lying.

"You don't…have to feel guilty…you know. What…happened to me…had nothing to do…with you. I probably…would have jumped…even if you were…still around. The…Quileutes do it…all the time."

I couldn't be sure but I thought Esme's eyes narrowed just a bit at the mention of my friends on the reservation. I would never understand the animosity between the Cullens and the Quileutes. Even Esme, who generally liked everyone, appeared less then conciliatory towards them. And it wasn't lost on me that not a single one of my friends or Sue had paid me a visit since the Cullens arrived.

"You blame them," I said.

Esme finally looked at me and shook her head.

"No. No…boys will be boys…" her voice trailed off and she looked lost in thought. "But they should have known it wouldn't be safe for you."

She became aware of the fork full of carrots and brought it to my lips.

"What's wrong…with me?" I asked, ignoring the orange crap on the fork. "Why is it…safe for them…and not for me?"

I thought back to all the years of Esme's warnings to be careful, her watchful eye always on me when I played. I had always thought it was because the Cullens were vampires, indestructible and she was just being overprotective of me, the fragile human kid; but now…could it be something else?

"Edward, there is nothing wrong with you; those boys on the reservation, they're just so…so rough." She amended, but her eyes didn't meet mine. I thought she might be lying again, but what did it matter anymore.

I opened my mouth and the carrots found their way to the back of my throat. I gagged a little. Neither Esme nor I had gotten the feeding thing down completely. She looked mortified.

"The nurse's aide…can do this." I offered already knowing what her answer would be.

"You'll starve if I leave it up to them. " She smiled weakly and scooped some whipped potatoes on the fork; no gravy thankfully.

"I know Carlisle has…already told you…this, but you don't…have to stay you…know. You don't…have to stay…here. You left me…you weren't going…to come back…you left." I paused for effect and saw her face crumble, but despite the nagging guilt, I pressed on.

"You don't have…any obligation to…me…no reason to stay. I'll be fine. I'll get in that…chair tomorrow and…go to rehab and…then find someplace…to go...a place for people…like me. I'll even…I'll even let…you guys pay…for it." I struggled with the last few words, feeling my throat close up and wondering if maybe I hadn't swallowed all my food properly, but that wasn't it.

I saw Esme's throat working. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was she that was struggling to swallow something. She put the plate of food aside and bowed her head for a minute and when she finally lifted her eyes, I had a hard time meeting them. I knew what her answer was going to be; knew it before I even said anything, but I had to give her the option. Carlisle would go along with it, if it were something Esme truly wanted.

But rather than speak immediately, Esme leaned forward gripping my face between her hands and kissed me, first on one cheek, then the other. Gently she pressed her face into the crook of my neck being careful to avoid the trach and I felt her lips on my ear. I even imagined I felt a little tingling sensation running up and down my spine, but I guessed that was just a memory of another time when Esme's cold kisses made me shiver with cold and delight.

"You're my son. I would never abandon you." She pulled back and quickly pressed her finger to my lips before I could remind her she had done that very thing.

"Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Ever. Even my human life." She paused letting those words sink in. I knew her history. "Maybe we made a mistake. Maybe there was another way. Maybe we didn't try hard enough to come up with another alternative and if we had, maybe you wouldn't be here lying in this bed. But even if we never left and that jump was just fate, something that would have happened either way; nothing and I mean nothing would keep me from being here at your side now."

One hand had slid down from my face and she stroked my arm. I watched her hand as I had Carlisle's and those of my siblings, no less amazed when I realized their penetrating cold could not touch me anymore and I felt a deep overwhelming sadness fill me.

"Being away from you tore me apart and not even Carlisle could fix it." Esme continued, her voice hitching a little. She paused, looking down at her own hand stroking my arm. "I was coming back no matter what, with or without the rest of them. I was coming back to get you…my son."

The ventilator didn't allow me to cry. I couldn't take gasping breaths as I hiccupped out my sobs. The only sign at all was the single tear I felt sliding down my cheek. It was quickly wiped away by Esme.

"I'm here for the long haul. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you again. I'll give you your space as you grow and mature into the man you will become, but I'll always be close and I'll always take care of you and help you if you need me."

I concentrated on the hissing of the ventilator, willing myself not to cry, embarrassed that I couldn't hide my emotions, couldn't turn my head or wipe my tears. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop them. I didn't say anything at first; I didn't know what to say. I could protest and demand that they leave me but I knew that wasn't an option. I might have been able to keep Carlisle from biting me, but I wasn't so delusional as to think he would take the entire family and leave because I demanded it.

I could make a stink legally, get a court order to keep them away from me, but that seemed like a ridiculous overreaction and I couldn't imagine hurting Esme like that. But on the other hand I didn't want them to feel obligated to stay out of some sense of duty or feelings of guilt. It would have been better…easier if they never came back. Damn Carlisle for dragging the entire family into my mess.

I felt Esme's hand grip my chin. She ignored the tears this time, assuming correctly that I was self- conscious about them.

"Don't delude yourself kiddo. There is no place I'd rather be then here with you, no matter your physical condition and I think I speak for all of us when I say that." I opened my eyes and studied her. She looked thoughtful, like she wanted to say something else. But instead she started stroking my hair and humming softly.

I sighed and closed my eyes again. I wouldn't win that argument. And should I? If I got past my catastrophic injury and my complete helplessness and the humiliation I felt at being helpless as an infant, incapable of even taking shit on my own, I could see why she was so adamant in her loyalty.

They were immortal; they would live forever. Carlisle was over three hundred years old. What was a few years spent with me when they had all the rest of time to live their lives after I was gone. They wouldn't really be giving up anything by taking care of me. It would give them something to do. Fill some time. Alice once told me that the hardest thing about being a vampire was finding ways to keep themselves engaged in living from one decade to the next, never changing, never moving forward. Granted it wasn't ideal. Taking care of me wasn't going to be a picnic, but it would occupy a few years and what was that when you had decades and centuries and millenniums to look forward to.

"But first things first," Esme said brightly. "We need to get you into a rehabilitation facility so you can gain back some mobility and learn how to live…this way."

My eyes shot open.

"I can't leave. Bella's…here. I have to…stay close." I gasped.

"Sweetie, no one is asking you to leave. You can do your rehab right here in Seattle. Do you remember what Carlisle said? He was offered a job here at this hospital. He is taking a leave of absence from his position in Duluth. We can move back, closer to the city.

"And when…I'm done with rehab...then what? You…can't stay around…here forever. It's too close…to Forks."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now we just need to concentrate on getting you out of this hospital."

Esme paused and leaned over me. Her hands pressed against the side of my face and I felt the power of her gaze, draw me in. I couldn't look away. I felt warmth in the core of my body; a tingling feeling that I got from time to time when one of the Cullens looked at me like that. I knew it was trick of their kind. I didn't fully understand it, but it made me want to please and no matter how much I wanted to protest and continue to argue against their staying, I found myself nodding my head ever so slightly. It was all I could manage…all I could move.

I was so caught up in gazing into Esme's kind gentle eyes, that I didn't pay much attention when the door of my room opened until I heard Esme's sharp intake of breath. My eyes flickered over her shoulder and I gasped.

It was Charlie and with him…Bella.

* * *

_**Author Notes:**_

_**I know it seems like this story is moving along at a snail's pace but it wouldn't feel that way if I was producing a chapter a week like I did in the beginning. Once again I will try write faster, but I won't make any promises anymore.**_

_**Next chapter will reveal what exactly Bella did to her mother.**_

_**Thank you for your patience.**_


	16. Demons

**DISCLAIMER: SM owns all Twilight characters and settings. No copyright infringement intended.**

Well, lets see, its been four or five months since I posted a chapter, no excuses or promises to expedite the next chapter since we know how well that worked out the last time. Assuming anyone is even reading this, just a reminder we are back to young Edward again.

**Excerpt from Chapter 14**

**_"Bella you need to tell me what's going on. If you don't tell me I can't help you."_**

**_"What makes you think I need help?" Bella sniffed and rose from the floor stuffing another childhood remnant in a box to be discarded later._**

**_"I can just tell, this isn't just about a secret. You need to tell me. Alice will be here to get me soon."_**

**_"Alright…alright." She agreed, plopping herself down again. " Like I said, my mom didn't kill herself not like they said…like the police said, like they told Charlie. She couldn't kill herself. It wasn't her fault…she wasn't very strong."_**

**_"It was an accident then Bella, she just forgot to turn off the car and fell asleep." Edward thought maybe Bella's mom had been drinking, like George did…or his dad did, but he didn't think it was polite to mention that._**

**_"It wasn't an accident ED…WARD." Bella emphasized the WARD and glared at him, leaving him speechless._**

**_"My MOTHER didn't kill herself and she didn't die accidently."_**

**_Edward's eyes widened. He finally got it. "Someone killed her?"_**

**_Bella looked relieved and nodded, taking his hand in both of hers._**

**_"Who Bella, do you know who would do that…how do you know…are you sure?" Edward sputtered._**

**_"Oh I'm sure."_**

**_"How do you know…how are you sure."_**

**_"Because I did it, Edward. I killed her. I killed my mother."_**

**_At least Bella had the decency to look sad about it_**

* * *

They're demons, ya know," Bella said from somewhere above him.

"Who is?" Edward replied, studying the tree branches carefully.

He couldn't figure out how Bella had gotten so high up in the tree and she was so fast. No sooner had he suggested they climb the tree and she was gone, winding through the maze of branches like a monkey, quickly disappearing in the foliage.

When she didn't reply he asked again, louder this time.

"Who are demons?" He found the stepladder of branches that Bella had undoubtedly used to shimmy up the tree and followed after her.

"Your _family," _she replied, emphasizing the word family; her callous tone, a painful reminder that they were not really his family.

"That's not very nice, Bella," he scolded. He knew she wasn't trying to be spiteful, but her emerging, very adult, very pragmatic attitude made him feel childish and put him on the defensive. He hoisted himself up on a particularly thick branch and saw her sitting in a crook on the same branch, several feet from the truck of the tree.

She bounced a little and he smiled. He had no fear of heights and apparently neither did she.

"How did you get so good at climbing trees? Last I heard, there are only cactuses in Arizona." He straddled the branch and inched his way out to her.

"I didn't spend all my time in Arizona, ya know. I was here every summer and that's all that Jake and I ever did."

Edward winced and was glad that Bella was too busy repositioning herself to notice. He was an idiot. Bella spent a lot of time with Jacob; of course she would learn how to climb trees.

"Oh yeah, that's right." He mumbled.

He didn't ask Bella to elaborate about the Cullens. He didn't want to know. She had been acting pretty strangely lately and if he pointed it out, she got all weird and angry with him. He had figured out pretty fast that it was best to ignore the things that didn't make sense and pretend they never happened. It had worked with the Cullens for years.

The tree's branches swayed in the breeze and they sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the wind whistling through the leaves. The sun was shining and there was barely a cloud in the sky, not something that happened too much around Forks. It was nice to just enjoy the good weather while it lasted.

"We should go for a swim," Bella said suddenly, startling him. "Doesn't that water look delicious?"

Edward looked over his shoulder at the river. He wouldn't have described the water as looking_ delicious_, but that was just how Bella talked sometimes. He knew what she meant. With the sunshine reflecting off the water, it did look nice, even inviting, but he knew better. That water was cold, ice cold; full of the melted snow that ran down from the mountains causing it to spill over its banks. It was never really warm enough to swim in that river, even in the middle of summer, not that he hadn't tried it a time or two.

"It's too cold," Edward said.

It doesn't look too cold. It looks nice."

"Fine, don't believe me. I'll take you down and you'll see how cold it is for yourself, but for now, can we just sit here and do nothing."

Too his relief, Bella nodded and settled back against the tree branch. He was worried that she might try and argue with him or climb down the tree to test it out herself. She was unpredictable that way. She always seemed to be going in ten different directions, wanting to try everything and all at the same time. Sometimes she made him dizzy. But now she appeared satisfied to just sit in the tree with him and for that he was thankful.

The best way he could describe his time with Bella since she moved from Arizona was bewildering. It wasn't that she was so different from the previous summer when he first really started noticing that she didn't act the way most girls her age did. He liked that she was different, noticeably so, because it made him feel special just to be considered her friend. He didn't care that she didn't really fit in at school or that the other girls thought she was strange, mainly because he felt the same way; out of place, like he really didn't belong there. Now that he had Bella to eat lunch with and sit by in some of the classes they shared, he felt more like he belonged then he ever had before.

He tried to ignore it when the girls and sometimes even the boys, twirled there finger against their temple whenever Bella described something like she was reciting it from a book or danced and twirled down the hallway, jumping over objects that weren't there; and most of the time he succeeded, especially since it only seemed to annoy Bella when he came to her defense.

When they weren't in school, Edward went to Bella's house almost every weekend and sometimes on weeknights too. He got to see her almost as often as he liked and though she still went to the reservation from time to time, it was pretty obvious the way Bella moped around and pouted whenever she couldn't be with him, that she preferred him to Jacob Black.

Playing at Bella's house all the time though confining and repetitious, was tolerable in the winter months, even with Charlie hovering over them. He never left the two of them alone very long and never allowed her bedroom door to be closed. Edward could feel the tips of his ears turn red whenever Charlie reminded Bella of _that_ rule that made no sense to her, but a lot of sense to Edward.

He couldn't say exactly why things changed at Bella's house, though he remembered precisely the moment when it happened. A call from school and Charlie's hushed voice had alerted him that something was up. The questions came soon thereafter. First they were directed at Bella. Edward never really got a good grasp of what Charlie was trying to find out, but Bella's annoyance with her father was obvious and her defiance earned her a grounding from seeing him for a week.

Bella was never one that could be bullied into anything, not even by her own father, but the same couldn't be said for Edward. Charlie's questions sounded innocent enough at first, just casual comments about what he and Bella did all day, what they talked about and how things were going at school; but then Edward noticed the change; though probably less of a change on Charlie's part and more of awareness on his. Charlie was interrogating him like Edward imagined he might do if he was talking to a suspect in a crime. He had seen it done plenty of times on TV.

The questions became more specific, more about Bella, more about the things Bella said and did and they didn't sound like questions that a father should ask about his own daughter, especially directed to his daughter's friend. Surprisingly the questions had nothing to do with Bella's mother or how she died or even how Bella was handling the death which was probably a good thing.

Keeping a secret wasn't something Edward was good at. Bella knew it, he knew it, even the people he was supposed to be keeping the secret from knew it, so it was an understatement to say he was relieved that Charlie never ventured down that path, never even implied he was suspicious about the death of Bella's mother.

Not that Edward didn't have misgivings about keeping _that_ secret. It seemed to him that someone should probably be told when the words "killed" were involved. He didn't like to think of it as _murder_. Bella wasn't a murderer. Whatever happened that night her mother died surely had nothing to do with murder. And he knew there was a difference. Killing someone was not the same as murdering them. He recognized the distinction. Bella never said she murdered her mother, only that she killed her and that could be interpreted a lot of different ways. Not that Bella was willing to talk any more about it. She had remained pretty much mum on the entire subject except to remind him that she didn't want to talk about it and that he better keep her secret.

As much as he loved being brought into her confidence that was one thing that he wished she had just kept to herself, all things considered. He had no one to talk to, couldn't tell anyone if he did and Bella refused to elaborate any further, so the entire matter gnawed at him whenever he thought about it which he tried not to do.

Then he had Charlie to worry about. Charlie was a cop, trained to sniff out the bad guys even when they didn't appear all that bad. Would his cop instincts work on Bella? Would he be able to recognize his own daughter as a killer? Edward wasn't sure, but every once in a while he caught Charlie looking at Bella in a peculiar sort of way and he wondered what he was thinking; could almost see the wheels of Charlie's mind turning, like he was trying to figure out what exactly was going on with Bella, but couldn't quite put his finger on it which Edward guessed was why Charlie asked so many questions.

It was taking a toll on Edward. Esme commented on it first, how skinny he was getting, that he needed to eat more, but no matter how much he tried to tell her he was eating all the food he could possibly hold, she didn't believe him, not even when Carlisle said he was just a growing boy and there was nothing wrong with him.

But Carlisle was wrong. Edward wasn't eating, not nearly as much as he could. His stomach hurt, he was nervous all the time and he didn't have an appetite, so he spent a lot of time swirling the food around on his plate or hiding it in a napkin and refusing the treats and snacks that Esme was always offering him.

It was wrong, everything was wrong; ever since Bella had come to Forks to live for good, things just hadn't been right and nothing about Bella's behavior was making him feel any better about his secret or his friendship with her for that matter. The more time he spent with Bella, the more uneasy he became, because this Bella was different, even different then the girl that he knew last summer and though a part of him told him that it was because of the secret she kept and the way her mother died, he wasn't completely convinced that that was the only problem Bella had.

He never really paid much attention to Bella's oddities. If he noticed them at all, it was only to cherish something new and special that he discovered about her. She was like no one he ever met and so of course she would be different and her uniqueness probably explained why he was so enamored with her. He knew that they shared a special connection, one that went beyond the normal childhood friendships he had with others his age. He never criticized her or laughed at her or smirked behind her back when she said or did something unusual or inappropriate and even Jake couldn't say that. She had told him as much.

The trouble might have started with Bella's proclamation that she killed her mother, but that was only the tip of the ice berg. It was only what started the ball rolling and made Edward more aware of the things that Bella said and did. He became more protective of her, more concerned for her well-being which he never had been when she had lived in Arizona. He found it hard to leave her house when Carlisle or Esme came to pick him up on the nights and weekends he was allowed to visit and made excuses to stay longer even going so far as to hurt Esme's feelings by telling her he was bored at home with no one but adults to do things with.

Finally Carlisle had a talk with Charlie and Bella was granted permission to come to his house on some of those weekends and even on weeknights sometimes, especially when Charlie worked. For a brief time, maybe a few weeks or even as long as a month, Edward's apprehension eased and he even felt happy again, happy that Bella could finally come and play at his house and see his room and enjoy all the things that a life of living with the Cullens had to offer. He was finally able to share his life with someone else.

But Edward should have known it wouldn't last, should have known it from the very first moment that Bella stepped foot in the door. It was just the way it was with him, nothing good every lasted very long and he should have come to expect it despite the fact that had been living with the Cullens for over five years now and so far that good had lasted.

It wasn't that Bella was any less weird when she came to his house, but she hid it better, didn't make some outlandish statement about how the TV was talking to her or how giant words were floating in the air above his head making it possible for her to read his mind which she certainly could not. Oh, she might stare suspiciously at a snack that Esme brought up to them even if it was something as simple as an apple, turning it over and over in her hand, looking for any sign that it had been contaminated or poisoned, but she never did that in front of Esme.

No, Edward's latest source of stress came from a completely different, completely unexpected source.

_Carlisle._

It had never occurred to him that Carlisle might be a bigger threat to Bella then Charlie was. He was too excited to have Bella with him and proud to show his best friend off to the Cullens to even consider that any of them, but particularly Carlisle would pay much attention to Bella. He'd never had a visitor before, never once had he brought a friend home or had a sleepover or done any of the things that normal kids did. He never got to have that Halloween party that Carlisle had briefly mentioned a few years ago, never asked about it, never pursued it. It just reinforced how special Bella was that Carlisle would actually ask Charlie if Bella could come over for visits and that lulled him into thinking that Bella was safe in his house away from Charlie's inquiring questions and suspicious looks.

It was the third or fourth time that Bella had been to the house. Edward had grudgingly gone upstairs to clean his room, rather than sit by the window in the entryway to wait for her like he normally did. One of the few chores he had was to keep his room tidy which he never really took seriously until Esme _laid down the law_ and told him that he had to clean it spotless before Bella could come over and play. It was his fault. He had gotten so involved in a game of chess with Jasper the night before that he had completely forgotten about his room.

He heard the car door of Charlie's cruiser slam shut and imagined Bella running up the driveway to the front door where he should have been waiting for her. The doorbell rang and Esme's voice called out for her to come in. He just finished shoving his Xbox under his bed and calmly walked to the top of the stairs to wave Bella up when he froze.

Carlisle had most likely been in his office, because he was standing in the hallway off to the side of Bella, right in front of his office door. She hadn't noticed him. She wasn't even looking in his direction. Instead, she was staring at the ceiling; her head was tilted back as far as it would go, almost to the point that it might be painful. She was watching something; even from where Edward was he could see her eyes moving back and forth and up and down. If he didn't know any better he would have guessed that a bird had flown into the house and was flying around, frantically trying to find a way out. It had happened before, someone…well him…had left the door open and a bird flew in, flying throughout the house, banging off of walls, trying to find its way back outside until it finally flew into one of the huge picture windows crumpling to the ground, dead of a broken neck.

But Edward new better.

There was no bird flying around now. There wasn't anything moving around the room except the intermittent shadows created from the trees outside whenever the sun peeked through a cloud. Tell that to Bella. She was staring so long and hard at something, craning her head still further back, unable or unwilling to turn around to get a better look.

As disturbing as Bella's behavior was, it was Carlisle that caught Edward's attention almost immediately. He was standing as still as only he could, not moving, not even breathing as far as Edward could see, watching Bella, observing Bella, analyzing Bella. Edward could almost see the flow of thoughts that raced through Carlisle's mind, even though Carlisle's face remained rather expressionless.

He wasn't looking at Bella like a concerned father or a teacher or even a friend. Carlisle was looking at Bella as a doctor, trying to understand what was happening and why she was behaving that way; and that scared Edward, it scared him enough that Bella's name burst from his lips the moment he saw Carlisle. He wanted to pretend that he was just calling her upstairs, but he knew by the way her name escaped him like a squeak that it didn't come out that way. It came out like a warning and thankfully, it broke Bella out of her hypnotic fascination with whatever she saw on the ceiling, but it also drew Carlisle's attention.

He smiled at Edward and even touched Bella on the head as she ran by him and up the stairs, but Edward saw the look of concern on his face before he covered it up and that's when he was reminded that good things never lasted.

From that day forward Carlisle became a lingerer; always around. Not that Edward necessarily saw him, but he knew he was listening, eavesdropping on their conversations; finding reasons to interrupt their play to ask questions, questions that were usually directed at Bella.

And when he wasn't asking questions he was watching them whenever he could. If they were outside, Edward would often see Carlisle's silhouette by the window; if they were in the family room, he would announce that the light was better there and settle into the recliner to read his big medical books.

But it was the things that Carlisle heard that bothered Edward the most, because that was when Bella's idiosyncrasies were most apparent. Edward new Carlisle heard everything and Bella was never shy about inquiring about something only she saw like where Edward had gotten all those tiny BMX bikes that raced around the wall of his room, but never bumped into each other and never fell to the floor for which he had to explain in a low hoarse whisper, that it was just part of the wall paper and they weren't moving at all.

When Carlisle asked him later why Bella had been talking about when she mentioned that her head hurt because Wednesday and Saturday were screaming at each other over which Xbox game they should play, Edward would only shrug and say that he and Bella were playing a game of make believe. How else could he explain that all the days of the week, but especially Wednesday and Saturday, routinely fought inside of Bella's head. And even if he could explain it, he knew it wasn't normal and there was a very good possibility that Carlisle might tell Charlie and then things would just go downhill from there.

He started speaking to Bella in whispers, cupping his hands around Bella's ear and she would listen and nod her head when he told her she couldn't talk weird at his house because Carlisle was listening, but then the very next minute she would point at the TV and tell him that they could never unplug the TV because then the TV people would have nothing to do and would spill out into the room and not all of them were good guys.

So Edward stopped inviting Bella over to his house and wished he never suggested it in the first place wishing he had kept his life with Bella separate from his life with the Cullens. But Bella still came over, even when Edward didn't invite her. Charlie didn't like leaving her home alone according to Bella and oddly, both Carlisle and Esme seemed reluctant to let him go over to Bella's as much as they use to.

So between Charlie's questions and Carlisle's silent observations, Edward was beginning to feel that lump in his stomach, the one that visited every now and again, churn and grown, until he felt he might burst with the burden of knowing that something was seriously wrong with his Bella and it had nothing to do with being _special._

But then the weather turned nice and that helped. It gave Edward a little piece of mind that he could have Bella over and they didn't have to spend all their time in the house with all the listening ears. He could direct Bella to the great expanse of Cullen property where they could wander and explore or just sit and read in the grass. And inside or out, Bella seemed pretty content when she wasn't talking about how the fibers of the carpet screamed in synchronized agony whenever Rosalie decided to play the piano

That was how she ended up being at his house on that beautiful spring afternoon and it made him almost forget about Bella's disturbing comment and how both Carlisle and Charlie seemed a little too concerned about Bella's state of mind. It was only later, long after the sunlight had been smothered under a blanket of oppressive black clouds that Edward was reminded why it had been a bad idea to have Bella over to play outside. The house, despite the prying ears, offered a safety net of sorts, one that didn't exist outside and though he never felt in danger when he played around the house, he found out pretty quickly that there were plenty of dangers for a girl that saw things in the shapes of the leaves that he couldn't see or heard voices in the whisper of the winds that he couldn't hear and he was ill equipped to help her despite being her best friend.

"I think you should come live with me," Bella said softly, her long brown hair spilling across her face and down over her shoulder as she embraced a tree branch, her arms and legs wrapped around it like little kids did when they were carried by adults.

Edward felt a warm fluttering in his belly, something that came and went depending on Bella's mood and was nothing like the feeling he had when he thought he might be in trouble for something he may or may not have don

"Why is that?"

"I told you," Bella said, looking over her shoulder at him.

He was straddling the same tree branch as she, but was leaning back into the tree trunk. He shrugged. She might very well have told him but he never knew when Bella was serious, when she was kidding or when she was talking to Wednesday or Saturday or the people on TV.

She rolled her eyes and lifted her hand from under her chin, pointing at the house.

"Because THEY are demons."

The warm feeling in his belly left as quickly as it had come.

"Bella….don't say that, they might be able to hear you." Edward didn't think they could but sometimes the warning kept her from talking gibberish.

"I'm sure they _can_ hear me. Demons have special abilities that you and I don't have. That's why you need to leave, _now_. I don't know why they've kept you alive so long, but your time is running out…_tick tock….tick tock_." She was whispering, the words coming out in one long breathless burst.

Edward sighed and glanced at the house. From that distance he could barely make out the patio furniture, but no one was sitting on it, he was sure of that. Esme wasn't working in her garden either. The Cullens didn't come out when it was sunny, not with Bella there, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"They're no more demons then your dad or anyone else, unless demons are just everyday people that go to school and work as doctors and take care of kids."

There was no arguing when Bella got on one of her tangents, no convincing her that she was wrong, but he felt protective of the Cullens and it hurt his feelings to hear Bella call them names, even though he was beginning to understand that some of the things she said and did weren't really her fault.

"Well you're just a dumb boy if you can't see it, Edward Masen. In fact, I don't even know why I have you as my friend." She looked over her shoulder at him again, and smiled a little. "Oh yeah…to keep you safe from all the demons."

"Okay Bella, tell me why you're calling people names that have only ever been nice to you." His stomach grumbled a little. Great, now he was hungry. He couldn't very well take Bella, the demon hater, back to the house for something to eat until he knew where she was going with it.

"I'll tell you exactly why, you non believer." She sat up abruptly and adjusted her position in the branch so she was facing him. "First, demons have black eyes, black as night, blacker than night, eyes so black that you wouldn't be able to see your hand in front of your face if you were lost in such blackness."

She hesitated, crossing her arms smugly and waited for him to reply.

He squinted his eyes at her, warily. "What does that have to do with the Cullens? They have really light eyes. Lighter than yours."

"Are you trying to tell me that you've never seen their eyes change color?"

"Well…no…I mean mostly they're light brown but sometimes…" Edward, looked back at the house. No one was outside. He leaned closer to Bella and whispered. "Sometimes they look dark brown, but that's just the light."

"Ha." Bella snorted. "Dark brown, my butt. I've seen their black eyes myself. Demon black. Demons disguise their eye color whenever they want. People's eyes can't change color, only demons."

Edward didn't say anything. She had him there. The Cullens' eyes did change color from time to time. He'd asked about it once and Carlisle had told him that it was a medical condition that made their eyes dark. That was why he and Esme adopted Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie and Alice. They all had the same medical condition.

"Well your wrong, Bella. Carlisle told me why. I forget what it's called, but it's some kind of disease."

Bella rolled her eyes.

"That's why their skin is so white and their bodies are so cold. It's all related to the same thing."

"So you noticed it too?" Bella didn't look convinced; in fact, she looked excited.

"Well I noticed they were different, but different doesn't mean bad." He was thinking about Bella right then. Bella was different, really different. Did he feel the same way about the Cullens? He hadn't really thought about it before.

"Demons are cold, ice cold and their eyes are black and they snort fire from their noses. Have the Cullens done that; is that part of their disease?"

"You're being silly, Bella. Of course they don't shoot fire from their nose." He stretched his arms over his head, suggesting that it might be time to climb down from the tree and head for the house, now that she had gotten that off her chest.

"And demons have super-duper hearing and can run really fast, faster than the fastest man. Can your Cullens do that or is that just part of their disease?"

That unpleasant fluttering touched Edward's belly. He swung his leg over the tree branch and surveyed the ground below him. Was it too far to jump? Probably, but he suddenly had a great need to get out of that tree.

"You know it's true Edward, you just won't admit it. I see it because I'm an outsider. You've lived with them too long and you don't want to see it. I'm talking to Charlie tonight; you need to come live with me."

Edward glared at his beloved Bella who looked surprisingly invigorated. "You'll do no such thing, Bella."

"Oh I will Edward. It's for your own good. Sometimes you just wiggle down into a little hole and refuse to peek out and see what's going on all around you and right in front of you. It's up to me to make you see what's really happening. That's why we make such a good team."

"Why is this any different from all the other things you think are _real_?" Edward snapped.

He scampered down one tree limb and walked out onto the branch so that he was at eye level with Bella, still sitting the branch just above him.

"You can't be saying all this silly stuff about the Cullens or about how the pictures on the wall paper move or that voices are talking to you that no one else can hear or about the TV people that might jump off the screen and hurt you. It's not real, none of it is real and if you keep saying stuff like that….they….Charlie….he's going to make you go to a doctor."

He turned and jumped feeling an unpleasant tingling shoot up through the bottom of his feet. Without looking back he marched towards the house, calling over his shoulder. "Now if you're done talking so dumb, let's go get something to eat; I'm hungry."

A moment later, he heard Bella's soft footsteps.

"Wait Edward."

But he didn't wait, he just kept walking. The conversation with Bella about the Cullens was hitting too close to home and even if she couldn't help it, he was still mad at her.

"Wait," Bella grabbed his arm, her voice breathless against his ear.

"What?" He stopped and looked at her. They were the same height, but if he stood up really straight he thought he might be taller.

"The river…you promised…I want to go see how cold the water is." She looked contrite, almost apologetic, but there was a little smile on her lips that made him think she wasn't all that sorry.

"Do you promise no more of this stuff about the Cullens?"

She nodded and immediately turned, skipping towards the water.

The river meandered its way around the Cullen property, creating a barrier of sorts that kept him from straying off the property or anyone else from wandering onto it. It was deep, the current strong and unpredictable. Only the south side of the property wasn't enclosed by water. Edward had long ago learned to respect the river and the dangers it presented especially at that time of year and he was dismayed to see Bella heading right for the nearest river bank, one that offered the best view, but was not easily traversed if a feel for the water temperature was what was at hand.

"Not there, Bella; we have to go where the bank isn't so steep." He was pointing further out, a place where the mowed grass touched the water's edge; the spring flooding making it easy to feel the frigid coldness of the water without ever having to leave the safety of the lawn.

Bella had heard him, he saw her cock her head in his direction, but she continued skipping toward the river bank. The fluttering in Edward's belly changed to flip flops, but he casually jogged after her. Bella was fine, just fine. There was no reason this had to turn into a sprint. He didn't want Bella to think this was a challenge, a race to the river's edge that would conclude with the winner jumping off the high bank, taking the exhilarating plunge directly into that _delicious_ looking water.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he said under his breath. Relief filled him when he saw Bella stop, her gaze fixated on the water below her.

Edward knew what she was seeing from that vantage point, though he couldn't yet see it himself. There was no angry currents, no sounds of water crashing off of rocks; no tumultuous rapids frothing and spewing; she would just see the dark deep water flowing by her and even if she laid on her belly she wouldn't be able to reach it.

"Bella, we have to go over there." He didn't know why he pointed. Bella's back was too him as he approached her.

"They're watching us, Edward. We have to be careful."

She was standing ramrod straight, her voice carrying out over the water, but Edward heard her. He didn't want to ask who was watching, because he didn't want to hear her try and tell him that there was something in the water, something only she could see, its beady little red eyes peering up at them; or maybe it was the shadows across the river, shadows that moved between the trees but as far as he could see, were just the play of sunlight against the swaying branches. To Bella, they might represent a sinister threatening presence. But he had to ask, he always asked even when it sent chills up his spine to hear her describe what clearly wasn't there.

"What's watching us, Bella? I don't see anything." He approached her cautiously, not wanting to startle her or make her think he was anything other than her best friend.

He heard her sigh, saw her shoulders rise and fall, like she was taking in deep breaths, trying to calm herself. It would be too late before he understood what she was really doing.

"They are watching us…the demons." She hissed; another deep breath.

Edward had just enough time to grasp what she meant; who she meant and he snuck a peek over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of someone standing just outside the back door by Esme's garden. If he had any conscious thought of who it might be or what they were doing in the backyard, he didn't have time to contemplate it. For right at the moment he reached Bella's side, he felt her hands on him, pulling him forward with her. He didn't have time to think about what she was doing or why she was doing it, but he resisted the grip of her hands that were tangled in his shit and tried to pull back from her.

Bella looked at him confused. He had never pulled away from her before. She shook her head a little as if he had asked her a question and pulled harder. This time he stepped forward, just curious enough to want to know what she was doing. But then it was too late. He didn't need her to tell him that they had to escape and jumping into the river was the only way. By then, her intent was pretty obvious. Still, she said it out loud anyway, just before she took another deep breath and pulled him with her.

The plunge into the frigid water, took just a fraction of a second, but he had plenty of time to think about how icy cold that water was going to be; he remembered how numb his hands had gotten when, just a few days before, he tried to catch minnows in the flooded grass. It was deep too, even in summer when the water was at its lowest, it was still well over his head.

He gasped when he hit the water and it filled his mouth and lungs. He gave no thought to Bella or where she had gone. Instead he tried to swim, tried to break free of the icy embrace that pushed him down and rolled him over and over. Sheer terror overrode every other emotion he was feeling or had ever felt in his life and though he thought his eyes were wide open, he could see nothing, just blackness like the blackness of demon eyes that Bella described. He opened his mouth to scream and was briefly surprised that he could taste the river, but he wouldn't be able to recall the taste afterward and couldn't explain it if someone asked, though no one ever did.

Nor could he recall the moment when he was no longer in the water, no longer struggling to breath and fighting for his life. He only remembered coughing again and again, painful choking sounds that eventually cleared his lungs enough for him to breathe and when he could breathe he was able to look around. He could see the far river bank that contained the shadows that danced around beneath the trees, but he realized he wasn't standing or sitting on the ground looking at them.

Esme was holding him like she had when he was a child with his chin on her shoulder. He could feel her cold embrace, briefly thought about how strong she was and felt comforted by her soothing motherly tone that he couldn't deny he had missed hearing as he had grown older. Her caramel colored hair was plastered against her back and he was startled by the thought that she had been in the river and pulled him out. How had she managed it?

He tried to squelch the uncontrollable shuddering of his body, only then becoming aware of how god awful cold he was and how her body offered him no comfort. She seemed to realize that and deliberately held him a few inches away from her body even as he tried to pull himself closer seeking warmth that she couldn't offer him.

He was aware that they were moving…fast and the movement along with the jostling of his body against Esme's unyielding grip served as the trigger he needed, suddenly clearing his mind, making him remember. He gasped, choked again, then frantically struggled in the embrace that he knew from experience, he had no chance of breaking.

"Bella," he croaked, barely a whisper, but Esme heard him, for in the next moment she turned a little so that he was no longer facing the river, but Bella, wrapped in Carlisle's arms.

She appeared lifeless. Her mouth was open a little and her eyes were dilated and unfocused. He wanted to scream out to her, but could only produce a strangled sputtering cough as the last of the water was expelled from his lungs. The terror he felt in the river was nothing like what he was feeling now, but just as he thought he might burst with the agony of knowing that Bella was lost, he saw her blink and focus on him.

She had said that a person's eyes never changed color, but he was pretty sure that Bella's were as dark as they had ever been, no longer the deep warm brown eyes that fascinated and enthralled him. There was a look on her face, feral and savage that he had never seen before; a tautness around her wild eyes, a frailness in the way her hands, balled up in fists, pressing futilely against Carlisle's chest. She appeared to writhe in agony, her legs kicking at the air, arching her back, a keening sound emanating from her like no noise he had ever heard before. Her eyes held his, but nothing in her gaze reminded him of Bella, his Bella and for the briefest of moments, he thought all of Bella's crazy talk about killing her mother and seeing things that only she could see or hearing things that only she could hear finally made sense.

He thought that maybe…just maybe…there _was _such a thing as demons; only he didn't think Carlisle or Esme or any of the other Cullens were demons, but his own Bella and thinking about that made him do something he hadn't done in a long long time.

He started to cry.

* * *

**Not that anyone remembers, but I had promised to reveal how Bella's mother died in this chapter. Sorry, that it wasn't included, but I couldn't make it work in this chapter.**

**Next chapter will continue with young Edward and Bella.**


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